


The Sun Inside

by chilly_flame



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Pregnancy, magic baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chilly_flame/pseuds/chilly_flame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: The Sun Inside

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.

Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.

Length: 41K words, give or take

Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!

  


EMMA 

Emma doesn’t realize there is fairydust in her hair when they do it on the night of the Solstice. And when she thinks, “I wish I could get her pregnant right now,” it’s an off-handed notion because she’s nearing orgasm, and Regina looks unbelievably sexy all sweaty and gorgeous spread out in front of the fireplace. Emma loves their new dildo, and they’re going to town like crazy and she just has the thought, and when she comes, the funny explosion that envelops her whole body doesn’t strike her as totally out of the ordinary. Orgasms with Regina tend to be awesome, and this one is no exception.

Generally speaking, Emma would like to have another baby, one that she could help raise. But Henry’s still adjusting to whatever the heck 6th grade is in this weirdo land, and Snow (not called Mom more than occasionally) still _dislikes Regina intensely_ (her words). For now, they’re getting used to things, and enjoying the fact that Regina helped the kingdom vanquish Rumpelstiltskin, thereby freeing everyone to get on with their lives.

But it’s really, really not her intention to knock Regina up.

So three weeks later, when Regina pukes up her breakfast in the middle of a council meeting, everyone just winces and assumes she picked up some sort of a bug from being back home after all these years. Different world, different sicknesses go around, right?

But then it happens again the very next day when she’s trying to choke down a piece of toast. And the day after that? She doesn’t even make it to the kitchen before she’s running in the opposite direction for the bathroom.

Emma has a flashback to her own bouts of morning sickness, brief though they were, when Regina can’t hold down her lunch on the fourth day. Out of nowhere, Emma worries that Regina might have nailed some guy during the weeks leading up to their final battle with Rumpel, but honestly, that makes no sense. The Evil Queen swore fealty to Emma in front of the whole goddamned town when things got serious, and their kiss is what ultimately sent them back to this fairytale land. Emma knows for a fact that their love is true, as true as what they both feel for Henry. It’s the real thing.

So they go about their business, with Emma worrying and Regina puking, until Regina finally agrees to see Doc. He is shaking in his boots when he returns with the news.

“Uh, Princess, and uh, Your Majesty,” he mumbles, because even though Regina isn’t a queen anymore, she is still considered royalty. She also appreciates a well-timed honorific. “I have good news.”

Regina smirks. “I can’t imagine that there’s good reason why I’ve been--” Her words stick in her throat and die before she can say more.

Emma’s eyes widen, because she is immediately struck by the possibility. “No fucking way.”

“Majesty,” Doc continues, “You are with child.”

Emma stares at Doc, and when she glances to her right, Regina shares her expression. Stunned. Gobsmacked. Freaked the hell out. All of the above.

“You’re not serious,” Regina says, her voice as evil as Emma’s ever heard it. “There’s got to be another explanation. I have lain with no man--”

“What about magic?” Emma interrupts, right away wondering if Regina could have made this happen on her own.

Regina turns to her with a murderous expression. “Don’t you think if I were able to carry a child I would have done so before now? I couldn’t! I’ve--” She stops with a pained expression, and Emma knows there is more to the story than what she’ll say in front of Doc.

“Majesty, I am aware of your medical history,” Doc continues. “Nevertheless, you are pregnant. About four weeks along now, give or take, so you might want to hold off sharing the news for another two months or so. Better to be safe than sorry.”

Both of them continue to stare at Doc for a solid minute. Since Regina doesn’t seem to have any intention of speaking, Emma asks what she ought to know about Regina’s diet, and if there’s anything they should or shouldn’t be doing. No alcohol (thank goodness Regina has laid off the cider for a while), lots of fruit and vegetables and fish, regular exercise, limited horse riding (which Regina erupts over until Doc explains the reasons behind his recommendation). Apple juice and water and crackers will help the nausea, he advises, but she should make sure to eat a healthy dinner if she’s not able to consume food in the morning hours.

Emma has questions about sex, but suddenly realizes that Regina is beyond aggravated. Maybe before she finds out what kind of sex they can have, they should talk about the fact that Emma doesn’t have the equipment to get Regina pregnant. And that they didn’t plan it, and that Regina might not want another child. They’ve never talked about a baby because it simply wasn’t an option.

“Doc,” Emma says, before Regina can freak out further, “I’m not exactly sure how this happened. I’m not, um, a guy. But I’m sure she’s been totally faithful.”

Doc’s smile is gentle. “I have no doubt, Princess. There may be no explanation right now, but I would venture to guess you are the, er, second parent to this child. It’s not entirely unheard of here. And Your Majesty,” he says to Regina, “Do not fear for the safety of the baby. Although this is a surprise, I assume this is something you both want--”

“Of course it is!” Regina nearly screeches.

That, despite the ringing in her ears, eases Emma’s mind.

“Then you will be fine,” he assures her. “Just relax and go about your lives. Take care of yourself, spend time with Henry, and all will be well. Remember, crackers, apple juice, and plenty of sleep will help.”

As they head out, Emma whispers to him, “I have other stuff to ask. Be back tomorrow.”

Doc gives her a nod of understanding.

When they leave the office, Regina is as white as a sheet. Emma feels a little green herself as she leads Regina to the carriage. The ride home is utterly silent. When they get to the castle, they don’t speak until they get to their rooms.

Emma shuts the door behind her, leaning against the heavy wood. Regina sits at the bedside.

“So,” Emma says.

Regina searches her face, perhaps looking for answers. “So?”

Emma grins. “Another kid,” she says, ready to erupt in joyous laughter. “You ready for this?”

Some of the anxiety drains away from Regina’s face. “No. But I suppose we have some time to prepare.” The terse smile lessens, replaced by a line between her brows. “I truly have been with no one but you, Emma.”

Emma nods, going to the bedside and taking Regina’s hands in hers. “I believe you.” She kisses her softly. “I believe you.”

Regina blinks tiredly. “I tried for many years for a child, before Henry. But my mother--”

Emma’s joy deflates, because Regina’s mother is the enemy, and she’s still out there in Wonderland, probably stealing hearts and wreaking havoc. She has not communicated with Regina since their return, but the danger remains. Snow and James are well aware of the potential threat she poses.

Regina takes a breath and continues. “My mother made sure I could not conceive a child when she first married me off to Leopold. She said it would keep me focused.” In her eyes Emma saw decades of unspoken pain. “I think she didn’t want me to have someone to love.”

Emma is so stunned at this that tears unexpectedly fill her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Regina.”

Regina doesn’t see that Emma is crying; she stares at the wall. “I know we won’t be able to keep the secret for long. What if she finds out and comes for me? Or the baby? She doesn’t care about you or Henry right now, but this child would be of her line, and she might--” Regina chokes. “She might want to take it, to steal it--”

“Regina!” Emma says, startled by this sudden flow of anxiety. “Where is this coming from?”

“It’s coming from the fact that my mother made me barren decades ago and now I’m pregnant! How am I supposed to explain that to her?”

“But she’s not here!” Emma cries. “And we’re protected. We’ve united two kingdoms, Regina. Even the ogres are on our side now that you’ve ended the Dark One’s reign. There’s no way--”

“Cora is the most powerful witch I have ever known, Emma. Almost everything I know I learned from her. Her dark magic--”

“—Is just that. Dark. She is no match from what you are now, Regina. You’re changed. Your magic is stronger now than it’s ever been. You told me that yourself. And if you had to defend me, and Henry and this--” Emma points at Regina’s stomach, waving her hand in a circle, --“whoever this is, you’d do it with everything you have in you. And so would I.” She reaches out and turns Regina’s chin toward her. “Don’t let Cora keep hurting you this way. Please.”

Regina’s chin wobbles, and Emma has the realization that this is going to be the first of many discussions they will have about Cora, all fueled by fear and hormones and the mystery of their child’s conception. But Emma doesn’t mind. Because they are going to have a _baby_. Emma’s commitment and protective nature suddenly overwhelm her. “I would do anything for you, Regina. Literally anything. Do you understand that?”

The sob comes then, and Regina nods, putting a head on Emma’s shoulder. _Hormones_ , Emma repeats to herself. And they’re only four weeks in. She lies back, pulling Regina with her. She strokes her hair, waiting for the crying to subside. Fortunately it doesn’t take very long, and when Regina looks up, her face holds a brightness Emma hasn’t seen for a while.

“I’m going to have a baby,” Regina says, her voice cracking. “We are.”

“Yeah,” Emma says, allowing the smile she’s wanted to show finally break out across her face.

“I never thought this would happen. Never.”

“Me neither.” _Obviously_.

Regina laughs. “You got me pregnant,” she continues, finally seeming to realize how bizarre the situation is. “You must have powerful magic within you, Emma Swan.”

“Of course I do,” Emma quips. “I guess we’ll figure it out eventually. And if we don’t, that’s okay too. I’ll take it.”

Hope sparkles on Regina’s face now, and it relieves Emma enormously. “Do you really believe it will work out?”

Emma thinks of Henry, and how terrified she was, alone and six months pregnant when she went to jail. She remembers all the things that went wrong, how poorly she ate and slept, how she’d been knocked around more than once. But in the end, she gave birth to a perfect little boy, who through fate or destiny or whatever magic exists in the world, ended up in Regina’s arms. And in Emma’s arms too, ten years later. “Henry worked out,” Emma manages, her voice trembling. “And we’re together for this one. It’s going to be great. I really believe it will work out.”

The vein that throbs in Regina’s forehead when she’s upset or angry or worried or afraid smoothes away, and she smiles properly. “A baby,” she whispers.

Out of nowhere, Emma can’t speak. She nods, and pulls Regina into her arms so tightly that nothing could come between them.

\---

Emma is glad when Regina’s exhaustion eases up after a couple of weeks, although she is still sick in the mornings. She hides it well, so no one asks what’s happening. But Snow lives in close proximity, and Emma can feel her eyes on them both. Later, when Regina is farther along, Emma has no doubt that Snow will be the first to figure it out. If she hasn’t already.

Regina doesn’t speak much more about Cora, for which Emma is grateful. And Henry has been clingier than usual, maybe because Regina’s been ill, or because she’s been tearful each day he’s come home from school with happy stories about new friends. Emma believes he senses something is up, but so far, he hasn’t cornered either of them.

Two months in, Emma visits the marketplace with a sword at her side and a couple of guards for protection. She won’t need it but Regina insists, and Emma is learning to pick her battles. She doesn’t really mind having the two men with her, because they will be the ones to carry all of her fresh vegetables and fruits (but no pears; Regina now has a violent aversion to pears) back to the castle. She could have sent someone to handle the shopping, but Regina is napping and Emma’s going a little stir crazy. Without a set job to take up her time she exercises a lot, learning sword-fighting, saiis, and the mace. Her arms are pretty cut, as are her abs, and Regina has no complaints. But that only takes up half the day, and since her parents don’t really need a hand leading the realm, Emma’s got to find a day job.

For now, shopping will have to do.

She’s just selecting some good looking corn on the cob when she hears a whisper in her ear. “How are you, Princess?”

Emma is startled, but manages not to drop the corn on the ground. “Nova, hey. How’s it going?”

Nova has a funny little smile on her face. “Very well. But you, how are you?”

Confused, Emma replies, “Fine. Why?”

Nova glances skyward with a sweet expression. “Oh, nothing. I just wondered if you’ve made any good wishes lately?”

“Wishes? Why would I make any--”  Emma’s confusion transforms into something more uncertain. “Wait a second. What do you mean by wishes?”

“Oh, nothing,” the fairy giggles. “I was just curious! Because you know, perhaps you made a wish some time ago, and it might have come true?”

Emma hears the words, but she’s having a flashback. She has a sinking suspicion she’s finally uncovered the origins of the baby. Emma grabs Nova by the hand and turns to the guards. “Guys, I need five minutes alone. And I am completely fucking serious. I don’t want either of you, or anyone, within ten feet of me and my friend here. Got it?”

The men nod as Emma drags a floating Nova by the arm across the marketplace and into a less populated area. Two villagers who are standing nearby take one look at Emma’s face and bolt; she is very, very angry, and she’s not hiding it.

“Princess--”

“Okay, Nova, you have 60 seconds to spell out exactly what you meant by ‘maybe you made a wish and it might have come true.’ What the hell does that mean?”

Nova laughs again. “Silly, it just means that I owed you a something special after you helped Grumpy and I get back together. Did you know we’re taking a sailing trip next month? The Blue Fairy was kind of mad, and Grumpy had to beg to get the time off--”

“Nova!” Emma whispers sharply. “Tell me what you did!”

Nova’s ebullience fades. “Well, I just—last time I saw you, at the solstice celebration, remember?” Emma nods. “I sprinkled a little fairy dust in your hair. So when you made a wish, it would come true!”

Emma remembers seeing Nova and Grumpy at the fair. Their happiness made Emma feel glad she’d stepped in and given the Blue Fairy the what for. She remembers the dress Regina wore that night, and the wine she’d had, and how she _could not wait_ to get back to the castle. Most of all, she remembers stripping that dress off, piece by interminable piece, and making very energetic love to Regina for a long while in front of the fire.

And she recalls making a very specific wish.

“Do all you fairies go around doing this stuff?” Emma shouts, trying to keep her voice down but not succeeding. “What if I’d thought, ‘I wish I could go back to Storybrooke?’ Or ‘I wish I could kill Regina?’ Because she makes me kind of crazy sometimes, and that seems like a totally logical thought!” She shakes Nova by the shoulders. “You have to stop with that stuff, Nova! It could have backfired!”

Nova is practically in tears by now. “Oh, Princess, I am terribly, terribly sorry. I so desperately hope something horrible didn’t come of my mistake.” She closes her eyes. “I only wanted to give you a gift.”

Emma takes a moment to think before she snorts. “Well, we got a gift all right.”

Nova looks at Emma, hopeful. “What happened?”

Emma glances around, searching for eavesdroppers. “Regina’s pregnant.”

Nova’s eyes sparkle with joy—her grin is so wide is splits her face in two. “No!”

“Yes,” Emma says, gritting her teeth. “You’re lucky we both want a baby, but it’s pretty weird. People are going to assume all kinds of things about us. Regina’s got a case of the raging hormones, and her behavior was already unpredictable. All I can say is that it’s going to be a very long seven months, give or take.”

“Emma, I am sorry, but I’m also, well, I’m thrilled too. But can I ask, do you remember your exact wish? Just so I can be certain--”

“I wished that I could get her pregnant. Is that exact enough for you?” Emma demands.

With a deep sigh of relief, Nova relaxes. “Perfect. You’re the—er, father, then. Mother. It’s quite ingenious, if you ask me, since you don’t have the right, um,” Nova looks down between Emma’s legs. “You know. And you must have been--” A red blush explodes across the fairy’s cheeks. “I mean, nothing.”

“What?”

“It’s better if you don’t explain the circumstances,” Nova says, the blush spreading to her ears. “I’m sure whatever you were doing when you made the wish, um, was very nice.”

Nova’s red cheeks spread to Emma’s. “Oh. Right.” Scrunching up her nose, Emma replies, “No comment. But listen, Nova, you can’t tell anyone. We want to make sure everything goes smoothly before we talk about it. That means Grumpy, and the Blue Fairy, and everyone else. You have to keep the secret!”

Nova holds up two fingers. “Fairy’s Honor,” she declares. “I won’t say a word to anyone. It’s my fault this happened to you, so it’s my responsibility to make sure everything is all right.” Frowning, she asks, “Is Regina okay?“

“She’s fine. She’ll be glad to know why this happened. Since we weren’t sure, she was worried there was dark magic involved.” Emma steps closer and lowers her voice. “She couldn’t carry a baby before now, Nova. This wish was kind of a big deal.”

Nova looks touched. “Oh, my. How wonderful. Princess, I am so happy for you.” Nova reaches out and holds Emma in her arms, and Emma allows optimism to flow through her. Sharing the news makes it seem all the more real. And now she knows—the baby really is hers.

When they part, Emma extracts another vow of silence, and Nova goes on her way. Emma returns to the vegetables and chooses her corn for a second time, adding it to her haul. Beets were Regina’s final request, and Emma grabs a handful of them by the greens and drops them in the bag, instructing the guard to pay for everything. She can’t concentrate any longer, and wants to get the hell back to Regina to tell her the news.

\---

“She what?” Regina shouts. “What the hell am I pregnant with? Is this another asinine attempt at fucking around with humanity by another blasted fairy?”

Emma puts her hands up defensively. “You didn’t even let me finish, Regina. Relax. It’s not as bad--”

“How the hell would you know? Fairy wishes can cause havoc, and I should know better than anyone. They’re as bad as Rumpel’s deals—there’s always a loophole, always some way to subvert whatever good they pretend to offer. This is a disaster!”

“Hey!” Emma says, snapping her finger in front of Regina’s face. She can’t very well slap her; she’d probably get thrown across the room. “I said _listen_. If you want to go on a rampage, at least wait till you have all the information, okay?”

Regina’s mouth hardens; her eyes flash dangerously. “Fine. Go.”

“She didn’t make you pregnant, okay? It was nothing like that. Remember the night of the winter solstice celebration?” That seems to shake Regina out of her fury. “Remember the party, how much fun we had? And you know, what we did after?”

Emma can tell right away when Regina’s mind drifts back to the fireplace, and the sweaty, naked skin, and the incredible sex they had late into the night. Regina swallows and nods weakly.

“Well, I guess Nova just tossed a little fairy dust in my hair and granted me a wish, without telling me.” Emma neglects to mention that the wish could have ended badly for all of them had the night not gone so well, but she’s got her hands full already. “So when we were… enjoying ourselves, I guess I just had the thought, and boom. Baby.”

Eyes narrowed, Regina leans close. “What was your exact wish?”

Considering how specific Regina’s question is, Emma’s relieved she wasn’t drunk enough that night to have forgotten what happened. “I--I wished I could get you pregnant.”

Regina rears back. Her mouth opens, and she turns away, moving toward the spot where their baby was conceived. The silence seems very long to Emma, who eventually goes to Regina’s side, putting a hand on her soft skin of her neck. “I’m sorry, Regina. I didn’t know--”

But Regina turns back to her, and there are tears in her eyes. “Never apologize for this, Emma,” she says. “If you’d thought anything else—had you simply wished that I could _get_ pregnant, or that we could have a baby, it wouldn’t have happened this way. Do you understand? You made the perfect wish, and you didn’t even realize it at the time.”

Emma blinks. “The perfect wish?”

“Just wishing that I could get pregnant would have done nothing—it may have healed my body, but it would have done no more. And wishing we could have a baby could have resulted perhaps in us finding an abandoned child, or worse, could have created a disaster that killed two healthy parents and presented us an orphaned infant to take in. And you never would have realized you’d made the wish, because the circumstances were so tragic.” Regina is smiling faintly now. “It’s all about semantics with fairies, dear. And your semantics were ideal.”

Finally, Emma is getting the picture. “So, this is a good thing?”

Regina’s fingers trail across Emma’s cheek, down her neck, into her hair. “Yes. Because it means the baby is part of both of us. Half you and half me. Two parents.” She laughs lightly. “It’s remarkable. And I feel a thousand times better. Even though I’m going to give Nova a piece of my mind the next time I see her.”

Grinning, Emma assures her, “Oh, I did that already, Regina. Believe me, she’s not going to be granting any more wishes to unsuspecting citizens of the EnchantedForest. I promise!”

“I suppose I should at least thank her. Even if this was unexpected, I’m… I’m very happy about it.”

That makes everything better for Emma. “I’m so glad, Regina. Even if you’re a raging, emotional, psychotic bitch for the next seven months, I’ll survive whatever it takes to meet our kid.”

Regina looks completely serene in that moment. “That’s lovely, dear. But you should prepare for far worse than that. I haven’t been pregnant before. You never know how things are going to go.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but takes Regina in her arms and kisses her soundly.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Sun Inside

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.

Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.

Length: 41K words, give or take

Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!

  


\---

By the end of the third month, Regina has settled into the idea of being pregnant. Her morning sickness disappears overnight at the end of week nine, and she starts to eat more and more to make up for lost time. She isn’t craving anything unusual, but she does eat constantly. Emma is sent out for snacks at all hours of the day and night, so the fact that she has no regular job doesn’t bother her anymore.

She continues with her fitness regimen and defensive training, and takes up horseback riding too. She goes out with Regina daily, keeping their pace nice and easy. Regina refuses to quit riding altogether, mainly because she can catch herself through magic in the off chance that she’s thrown.

“I’ve ridden my whole life, Emma. So will our baby. No one in the EnchantedForest stops riding because of pregnancy,” Regina tells her. “We don’t have many other modes of transportation, if you haven’t noticed.”

Emma gets it, but she keeps a close eye on Regina nevertheless. And Regina turns out to be a remarkable trainer, guiding her through lessons with far more patience than she expected. When Emma learns to ride without stirrups, Regina cheers; when she makes her first jump, Regina shouts loud enough to bring two guards running.

At the start of week fourteen, they plan a day out with Henry, who is also learning to ride in school. Regina does not instruct him for now, because as far as she’s concerned, that would only end in tears for the both of them. He’s accomplished enough to go out for a few hours, and they decide to tell him the good news then. Emma hopes his reaction will be a positive one, since he’ll have nowhere to go to get away from them in the forest.

The sun shines down that day despite the cold weather. There are still traces of snow on the ground, but spring is around the corner. Emma has found the weather in the fairytale world neither as hot nor as cold as it was in Maine. She hasn’t experienced a spring yet, but she’s already looking forward to it as she sees splashes of green peeking up from the damp ground.

They ride slowly, even though Henry would rather race toward their destination. Emma has no doubt that Regina would have loved that had she not been carrying a baby. She’s never really shown off her skill to Henry the way she has with Emma. Emma knows that she prefers to ride without a saddle, that she adores jumping more than anything, that she loves her horse Louis almost as much as she loves either of them. She went through four horses before she found the right one, and Emma has a strange suspicion that the horse has equal affection for his rider. It’s a little weird, not that Emma would ever say such a thing to Regina.

When they reach an open field, Regina nods her head toward the far end, where there’s a little brick oven and a long table and carved wooden benches. “It’s a picnic area!” Henry cries when he sees it, riding toward it.

“We can warm up here and have lunch,” Regina says. Her face is very still. She fidgets with the reins non-stop until Emma rides up next to her and places a hand on hers.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“I know it will,” Regina fires back. But she’s frowning, so Emma squeezes her hand reassuringly.

Whether it’s fine or not, they’re going to tell him the truth.

Regina sends both her and Henry into the nearby forest to gather firewood. “Get a lot,” she instructs, “And don’t bother with kindling,” she instructs. When they return, Emma’s shocked at the sight of Regina spreading cheese onto a perfectly round, uncooked pizza.

“Pizza!” Henry crows, dropping the wood at Emma’s feet and running forward. “Mom, you made pizza!”

“Yes, dear. It’s a special treat.”

Emma thinks it’s a treat for all three of them; it’s not a very common dish in this world. And even though Regina has declared she doesn’t really care for it, Emma is about to call bullshit.

“That’s a lot of pizza,” Emma says when she approaches the table. There’s a second completed pie on the end of the table, ready to be slid into the oven.

“Well, we’ve ridden quite a ways, haven’t we?” Regina answers, eyebrow raised. She licks her lips, and Emma laughs.

“Yeah, we have,” Emma says, heading for the oven. She shoves her share of wood into it, going back for Henry’s too. When it’s ready, she asks, “Who’s lighting this thing?”

“Stand back,” Regina says. She holds up her right hand, and a fireball forms within it. With careful aim she tosses it into the oven, setting the wood ablaze in a split second.

“All right, Mom!” Henry shouts.

“It won’t take long to heat up,” Regina says, looking very pleased with herself.

Emma gives her the side eye. “Show off.”

Regina doesn’t reply as she places each slice of pepperoni on the pizza, one at a time.

Ten minutes later, they have a perfect pizza on the table between them, along with frosty mugs of ice cold root beer. As Emma takes a swig, she once again feels spoiled having a lover who can do magic. It makes picnicking so much more fun.

Once they all start on their lunch, which is by all accounts fantastic, Regina takes a deep breath. “So, Henry dear, Emma and I wanted to talk about something with you. Something very important.”

The pizza slice stops in mid-air on the way toward Henry’s mouth. He glances between them. “Is it bad?” He looks genuinely worried.

“No,” Emma replies, putting a hand on his back. “We’re all good. It’s just… news.”

“Okay,” Henry says, relaxing enough to take a bite of pizza. “What is it?” he asks, his mouth full.

Regina opens her mouth, swallows, and takes a sip of root beer. She licks her lips. She opens her mouth again, and finally, looks at Emma. _You do it_ , her eyes plead.

So Emma inhales and says in one breath, “Your mom’s going to have a baby.”

Whatever Henry was expecting, it wasn’t this. “What?” He looks at Regina. “What? Who’s the dad? Are you cheating on Emma?”

Emma knows that everyone in the realm is going to ask the same question, so she’s got the answer all planned out. “I’m the dad, kid. Me, and nobody else. I mean, I’m not the _dad_ dad, but I’m the other mom. Get it?”

Henry stares into her eyes, confused. “But how?”

At least he doesn’t look angry. “Well, you know Nova?”

“Yeah. She used to be Sister Astrid.”

“Exactly. A few months ago, she gave me a wish, and I asked for a brother or a sister for you. So, that’s what happened.” He doesn’t need to know more than that. In fact, no one will ever find out that the baby was a product of luck, timing, and a full flask of good red wine.

When Henry smiles, Regina’s posture relaxes. Emma realizes she’s been tense for the entire day, if not the whole week leading up to this moment. “Wow.” He looks between them some more, his smile getting bigger. “Wow,” he laughs, looking more and more cheerful. “That is so cool! I’m going to be a big brother! Wow!”

The tears hit Regina again; she actually sobs this time, and Henry looks horrified. “Mom, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing, dear,” she tells him, waving him off, but he still moves around the table to her side. “I’m just glad you’re not upset. You’ve been an only child all this time, and I wasn’t sure if you’d want to have a sibling. We never talked about it.”

Henry looks into her eyes, and Emma sees all the love between them. “It’s cool, Mom,” he says, patting her arm. She pulls him to her, tears spilling over silently. “I’m happy for us. All of us.”

“I’m happy too, Henry.”

He looks down at Regina’s stomach, which hasn’t changed too much this early on. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We don’t know yet,” Regina replies.

“What will you name it?”

Emma laughs, and Regina tells him, “We haven’t thought that far ahead. You’re the very first person we’ve told.”

He brightens. “Really? Me?”

Emma shrugs. “Doc knows, and Nova, but you’re it, kid. Because you’re the most important person in our lives.”

He is practically glowing now. “That is so neat. Wow,” he says again. “I’m a brother.” When he turns back to Regina, he asks, “Which would you rather have? A boy or a girl?”

Regina frowns, almost confused. “Which would I rather?” She looks down and touches her belly. “You know, Henry, I never used to believe women who said they didn’t care, because I always thought they were lying. But I really don’t care. I just want a baby who’s happy. Just like I want you to be happy, dear. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Henry is quiet when he hears this. He seems to be gathering his courage before he asks, “Did you want a boy or a girl when you adopted me? What did you ask for?”

Regina glances at Emma briefly. ”I just wanted someone to love, Henry. I was meant to have you, and because I got you, I got Emma, too. I know I haven’t been the perfect mother, but I have always loved you. Every moment.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off her. “Even when I said I hated you?” His chin quivers a little.

“Even then.” She strokes his head gently.

“I’m sorry about that,” he admits.

She smiles. “I know you are.”

“I’m glad you’re my mom,” he finally says, and Emma’s heart swells with affection for the two of them.

Regina is clearly holding back more tears. Those hormones are going to be a serious problem. “I’m glad you’re my son, Henry. I’m so glad.”

They hug again, and Emma wipes her eyes. The hormone thing must be rubbing off on her too.

When the tears subside, they finish off their first pizza, and Regina shows Henry how to use the brick oven. She tells him that when she was a girl, she and her father used to come here to spend time together. Henry doesn’t know much about his grandfather, and especially not the circumstances of his death. No one alive knows about that except Emma, and it’s a secret she’ll take to the grave. She wrestles with the knowledge, along with the fact of Graham’s death, although it’s less now than before. Regina almost died fighting off Rumpelstiltskin when they arrived in the EnchantedForest, and had willingly put herself in the line of fire to keep Emma safe. It took her more than a month to recover fully; that has to count for something.

Emma knows she tries to make up for her wrongdoings every day. The promised void caused by the curse vanished when they returned to this world. But still Regina fights her darker nature when Snow is present, and James, too. She still feels the rage, and torment, but she doesn’t speak of it. Emma wishes she’d open up, but in time, she will.

At least, that’s what Emma hopes.

The dreams Regina has had of Cora have been frequent, though. That, more than anything, has worried Emma. The fear of the Queen of Hearts will never go away, but Emma tries to lessen it. For the most part, she thinks she helps. It’s not enough.

For now, Emma enjoys watching Henry shovel the pizza out of the oven when it’s cooked, carrying it to their table. He cuts it unevenly, complaining when Regina takes the largest slice.

“I’m eating for two. I’m allowed,” Regina declares, taking a big bite.

Emma steals a slice of her own and grins at Henry’s pout. “Whatever.”

\---

A few nights later, Henry continues to be fascinated by Regina’s changing form. Gone are her corsets, and while she still wears leather, her jackets are a little larger to accommodate her growing girth.

He lies on the bed in their room beside her, hand on her belly. “When will she start kicking?” he asks.

Regina laughs and asks, “Oh, so it’s a she?” She covers Henry’s hand. Emma smiles at their reflection in the mirror as she brushes out her hair.

“Definitely. She told me so,” Henry assures them. His imagination has not waned since their arrival in the EnchantedForest. “She also said that she really liked that pizza we made the other day and that we should have it again. Soon.”

“Gotta agree with her there,” Emma says. “Despite the tragic lack of Diet Coke, I could survive on root beer and pizza once a week. But I think we need to start making ice cream too. Regina, can’t you just, you know, magic some up?”

Regina replies, “Food isn’t as easy as you might think. I can do single ingredients, because it just means calling them from another location to ours. But no one here has ice cream. We can make a rudimentary machine though, if we have help from one of the dwarves. Henry, that can be your task. I’ll draw you a diagram of what we’ll need, and you can speak to Grumpy, all right?”

Emma turns around on her bench. “You know how to make an ice cream machine?”

“Yes, and I’ve made ice cream many times. We just need a hand crank, some fitted buckets, and salt. It’s easy.”

“Cool, Mom. I should have thought of that before.” Henry moves his hand a couple of inches across Regina’s stomach. “I don’t feel anything yet.”

“It’s early, dear,” Regina reminds him. They don’t anticipate the quickening for at least another month or so, even though every time Regina feels movement in her stomach (including gas and the occasional burp), she tenses up. Emma’s been through this before, but her memories are nothing like this. What she recalls of being pregnant with Henry are a constant state of anxiety and a constant case of heartburn. Regina hasn’t had heartburn yet, but the anxiety is another story. Having Henry here seems to soothe her though, and reminds Emma of how close they must have been long ago.

“You have school early tomorrow morning, young man,” Regina chides. But she hugs him close, in no hurry to shoo him out the door.

“I know,” Henry says, but he doesn’t move either. “Will you tell me a story tonight? I know it’s babyish, but--”

“Of course, dear,” Regina says smoothly, already up and tying her robe closed. Henry follows her off the bed, but first he stops at Emma’s side for a hug.

“Gnight, Emma,” Henry says.

“Gnight, kid,” she replies, giving him a noisy kiss on the cheek, like she does every night.

He squirms like he always does, giggling, and pulls away. Regina pulls open their heavy door, and Henry says eagerly, “When the baby comes, I’ll be able to read her stories like you did with me, Mo--”

Emma turns to find out why he stopped mid-word, and the answer is clear.

Snow White is standing there, one fist held high as if she is about to knock on their door. She is clearly stunned.

Regina stiffens, her spine going straight as a board.

Henry turns to her, pleading, “Sorry, Mom, oh jeez, I’m sorry--”

“It’s all right, dearest,” Regina assures him, hand on his shoulder. “Never you mind. Run along and brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll be in for your story in a few minutes, all right?”

Henry looks at Emma, frightened, but Emma gives him a reassuring nod. “Go on, kid. It’s okay.”

Without a word to Snow, who barely even looks at him, Henry dashes out the door and down the hall. “Come on in, Snow,” Emma says, since Regina hasn’t moved.

“What’s going on?” Snow White demands. “What baby was Henry talking about?”

“Mine,” Regina replies, waving a hand to slam the door. “Mine and Emma’s. I’m pregnant.”

The words fall on the room like a stone. Snow’s mouth is open as she realizes that Regina’s been hiding a very small baby bump for the last few weeks. “You can’t be serious,” Snow says. “That’s not possible.”

“We live in a magical realm,” Regina replies. “Anything is possible. You of all people should know that.”

“How, then? How did this happen?”

Emma stares at Regina, whose jaw is so firm Emma can tell she’s clenching her teeth. They’d spoken briefly about what to tell people, but had come up with no firm answer. Confronted with the question, Emma has no idea how to respond.

“It’s something we both wanted,” Regina finally says. She doesn’t explain further.

Snow shakes her head, not frowning, but confused. A hand runs through her hair, grown out below her ears and curling gently. “But… this isn’t how I… Of course, a baby is always good news, but with--” Snow glances at Regina quickly and Emma senses the depth of her burgeoning emotion. “Emma, we should discuss this further, in the morning once the news has settled. The implications could be far reaching--”

“Implications?” Regina says with a snort. “Our child is none of your concern--”

“Not my concern!” Snow snaps. “How could the future of the realm be none of my concern? This is my grandchild, a prince or a princess next in line after Henry takes the throne!” Regina inhales at that, hearing that her son will one day be king. “And the two of you not even married—between that and the fact that Emma is not a man, there will be dozens of questions--”

Regina’s hand opens and a spray of fire shoots out, flaring into nothing.

“Mom!” Emma shouts, going for the parental title to distract Snow from Regina’s action.

“I’m serious, Emma,” Snow says, stalking toward her. “Many in the realm, including the council, actively detest Regina, and they will do nothing but talk about the fact that her child, _your child_ if she’s to be believed--”

Emma sees another flash of fire that burns itself out.

“—Will not be a true member of this family. At the very least you must marry to prevent one of her enemies from taking action--”

“Stop!” Regina hisses, her voice so sharp and terrifying that Emma is truly fearful of her rage. “I will never, ever again be forced into a marriage by you, _Snow White_. I shall not marry, no matter what you or your _Charming_ or your government commands. My relationship with Emma will last till the end of my days, but a contract drawn up at the behest of Queen Snow does not make it more valid than what it already is. Our love created a new life, and there is nothing stronger than that.”

“Regina--” Snow tries to interrupt.

“Quiet!” Regina bares her teeth. “For more than ten long, excruciating years my entire existence was at your father’s whim. I was caged, forced into submission because of you and your dear, sweet friend, my mother. And once I was free, do you recall my taste for vengeance? Oh, of course you do. You know of every misdeed, including decades living under my curse. And yet here you are, demanding that I submit once again to your will?” Regina holds up a flame in her hand, playing with it between her fingers. She barely seems aware that she’s doing it, but still she never takes her eyes from Snow. “I shall not marry under the law of your realm. I love Emma and Henry and this child more than anything in this entire world, and they are my family. You are not my family and you never will be again. And if you and your King and Council wish to run me out of the castle on a rail, so be it. I will gladly take my family away from here to live in peace in a land far, far away. And then you will have no one left of your blessed _royal lineage_.”

Regina finally glances at Emma, the fire reflected in her eyes. Emma bobs her head in assent. She would go, if Regina asked. She loves her mother and father and so many people of this land, but she is part of a package deal. If one goes, they all go.

“Now if you will excuse me, my son asked me to tell him a story tonight. I won’t disappoint him.” With that, Regina throws her shoulders back and breezes from the room; Emma thinks she’s not even walking. The door throws itself open for her departure, and slams shut after her.

Snow exhales; it seems she was as nervous about Regina’s anger as Emma was. “That was pretty stupid, Snow.”

Snow goes to the window, placing a hand on the cool glass. “I forget what she’s really like sometimes,” Snow says in a whisper. “She seems so placid lately. Never an unkind word to anyone, always polite to James and me, always with a smile for Henry, or holding your hand like a normal person. And then this happens, and I remember she’d prefer I were dead.“

“She is a normal person,” Emma says defensively. And if Emma was _really_ honest, which she decides not to be, she’d say that if Regina wanted Snow dead, she would be. She always walked a strange line with Snow, and Emma had asked Regina in the past why she’d never stepped across it. Regina hadn’t answered, but Emma believes that somewhere in her heart, she wants to forgive. She just can’t, yet. And she may not ever. But she wants to. “And I guarantee that I got her pregnant, okay? I don’t want to hear another word about that from you, or James, ever. If Regina doesn’t want to get married, we’re not getting married.”

“But the child will be illegitimate--”

“What, you mean like Henry is?”

That stops Snow up short. “No, of course not. And we know you’re his mother--”

“And if you could test the baby’s DNA, it would be just as clear that I’m its mother too. Regina and I both. It’s magic, okay? I can’t explain it. And I won’t. Just know for a fact that the baby is mine. Believe me, I remember its conception, and I don’t want to have to explain the mechanics--”

“Oh my goodness, stop, okay?” Snow says, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about it.” She frowns with distaste. “It’s bad enough that I know you’re together, I don’t need details.”

Emma grins. “Whatever you say. Mom.” She adds with a chuckle. “Aren’t you at least going to congratulate me?”

“Oh,” Snow says, turning to Emma. She holds out her arms, and Emma walks into them. “Congratulations, honey. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Emma holds her tightly. “It’s okay. I know it’s going to kind of be a problem. But let us handle it the way we need to. And we really want to keep it quiet for as long as we can.” She pulls away, trying to emphasize the import of her words. “You can tell James, but seriously, it’s essential that no one finds out.”

“Why?”

Emma wonders what she should share, and then decides it’s better that Snow knows. “Regina is concerned that her mother is going to come after her.”

Snow is confused, head tilted to the side. “Why would she care? Cora has her own realm to rule. I can’t imagine why she would come here.”

“That doesn’t matter. Her fear is real, and I want to keep her relaxed as possible. And from what Regina’s told me, Cora’s just crazy enough to cause a problem. Did you know that she--” Emma pauses, recalling Regina’s pain. “Cora made her infertile. She’s never been able to conceive.”

Snow’s face falls, the corners of her mouth wilting. “Oh dear god,” she breathes.

“I know. And you can’t let on that I told you, but I want you to really understand what this means, for both of us. It’s a freaking miracle, okay? I don’t plan on shouting that particular word from the turrets, but it sure feels like it to me.” Emma smiles and pulls Snow back into an embrace. “I really want to be a mom again. I want to do it from the beginning this time. I can hardly wait till she’s born.”

“She?” Snow asks. “It’s a girl?”

Emma feels tears on her cheek, and wipes them away. “That’s what Henry says. It’s just a guess, and we don’t care one way or the other. But something about it feels right.”

Snow strokes Emma’s hair. “A girl.” Emma feels her mother’s kiss at her temple, and it’s so nice. “A girl would be wonderful.”

When Snow leaves soon after she makes a solemn vow not to tell anyone except James, Emma goes to Henry’s room. She pushes the door open a few inches and finds Regina reclined on Henry’s bed. She is stroking her son’s back rhythmically as he snores into his pillow. The room’s torch is still fully lit, but when Regina sees Emma, she lifts a hand and closes her fist, dimming the fire to gently burning embers. It’s just bright enough for Henry to see by if he wakes in the middle of the night—Regina’s version of a night light.

Emma sighs as she watches Regina roll off the bed, her posture still rigid. But Emma takes her hand and leads her back to the bedroom, pulling Regina’s robe off, and her own too. She sits Regina down on the bed and rubs her shoulders, kissing each one in turn. When Regina asks what she told Snow, Emma answers, “I told her the truth. That the baby’s ours, and everyone else can fuck off.” Emma doesn’t pause in her ministrations when she adds, “We don’t have to get married.”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Regina says, head down. “I know it hurt you. I just—I couldn’t let her force me--”

“She won’t, Regina. Not ever.” Emma wraps her arms around Regina and sets her chin on one shoulder. “I know you love me. We don’t need a piece of paper to prove it.” Even as Emma says the words, her heart dips a little. She never really thought about getting married, but now that it’s off the table, she kind of misses the idea.

“I do love you, Emma. I’ll never leave you. But marriage—what Snow means by it—is a prison. There’s no divorce here as you know it. And I can’t bear that again, to be owned. Trapped. Even by you.” She puts her hands on Emma’s wrists and leans back. “Can you understand?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Emma says, although she’ll never truly understand. She’s never been forced into marriage. She doesn’t know how Regina survived. “We can have our own little thing, maybe. Whenever you want. I’ll tell you I love you, and you tell me you love me, and that will be it.” Emma shuts her eyes and tries to imagine it. “There won’t be a white dress in sight, and it will just be us. You me and Henry and the baby. Would—would you wear a ring, maybe?”

“Yes,” Regina says, her voice catching a little. “Yes, I would like that, Emma Swan.”

That makes Emma feel better. “Good.” She kisses Regina’s shoulder, running her lips up the soft, soft skin of her neck. “I’d wear yours too.” Nuzzling the lobe of one ear, Emma draws Regina down to the mattress. “Let’s go to bed,” she murmurs, kissing Regina’s cheek carefully, waiting to see how she responds. When Regina pulls her down into a real kiss, Emma smiles against her mouth and pulls the covers over them.

\---


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Sun Inside

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.

Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.

Length: 41K words, give or take

Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!

  


\---

Emma leaves Regina in bed to sleep the following day, but she is bleary eyed when she looks in the mirror. Regina kept her up very late, as has been her habit. Emma had checked in initially with Doc to make sure that sex was okay during the pregnancy, and he’d provided a reassuring yes. But Emma had gone back to see him as they moved into the second trimester and Regina’s sex drive had gotten more intense. This was especially true after her nausea had disappeared; they’d had a couple of quickies in odd locations, and the nights were getting long. Doc had told her that this was fine, and not to worry.

He’d also said (with a knowing smile) she was looking a little tired, and recommended naps when Regina took them. Emma had tried that, but then the naps turned into more than naps, so the sleep thing wasn’t really working out.

Then again, it’s a small price to pay. And maybe nature is just prepping her for the sleep-deprived nights for when the baby comes. She certainly won’t complain to Regina, who is more seductive now than ever before. Her body’s changes are ripening everything; her breasts have become larger and more sensitive as her belly has grown, and her skin is one giant erogenous zone. Emma thinks that she’s had multiple orgasms once or twice as well, so Emma feels pretty confident about her skills.

When she slogs into the kitchen in search of protein that morning, she’s handed a hearty bowl of cinnamon oatmeal with peanut butter, a banana, and a glass of orange juice. She’s never had peanut butter with oatmeal before, and she gives the cook a questioning look.

“Your father said to make it for you,” she replies. “I don’t ask questions.”

When Emma enters the dining room, James is seated with a few parchments on the table as he drinks a cup of coffee. “Morning,” she says, raising an eyebrow when he looks up. “Thanks for breakfast?”

“Oh,” he grins. “Yeah. I ah, had a talk with your mother last night and she told me the news.” His smile grows even wider, and she sets her breakfast down and goes in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you, Em. I couldn’t be happier. I know the baby will be beautiful.” His voice is a whisper of sweet affection, and she feels his love flow over her. It still seems odd to call a man practically her own age her father, but she’s getting used to it.

“Thanks. Dad.” She smiles back at him shyly. “It’s pretty great.”

“Snow told me that we’re keeping things quiet, and that’s fine. Whatever makes Regina comfortable.”

Emma takes her regular seat across from him. “Why is there peanut butter in my oatmeal?” She dips a spoon into the bowl, swirls it around, and takes a bite. It’s surprisingly good.

“Oh,” he says, laughing. “If Regina’s libido is anything like your mother’s when she was pregnant with you, you’ll need the extra protein.”

Emma’s throat seizes up; the peanut butter combined with her complete and utter sense of TMI are going to choke her to death. She coughs, inhaling quickly, then coughs some more until James gets out of his chair and smacks her on the back. “Oh my god, you did not just go there,” she mutters when she can finally speak.

He goes back to his chair and shrugs. “Hey, let’s face it. Last year you wouldn’t have thought twice about having this conversation with me. Right?”

Emma lifts her eyebrows. “Yeah, but I didn’t know you were my dad then.”

“No matter. Apparently as my offspring you’re quite virile, since you got a woman pregnant. Very impressive,” he says, puffing out his chest.

Emma covers her face. “This is not happening.”

James cracks up. “I promise never to talk about this again, but all I’ll say is that you look tired. Eat your breakfast. And ask the cook to add peanut butter every day. I swear, it helps.”

She can take no more, and puts her head down on the table. “Okay. Thanks. You can stop now.”

\---

For another month and a half, everything is as it should be.

Regina never strays far from the castle grounds, preferring to tend to the gardens with the staff more than anything else. She has the greenest thumb of anyone Emma has ever met, even without the use of her magic. She can make anything grow, bring any dead plant back to life, encourage a sapling to flower with all the consideration and care she has to offer. And since she’s been attentive to the castle’s fruit trees and vegetables, everything in season has blossomed like never before, according to Snow. They have so many tangerines and oranges that the stores are overflowing, not to mention the chestnuts and squash and leeks.

Now the spring fruits and vegetables are coming in, so Regina spends her time checking on the various varieties of asparagus she planted, and marveling over the artichokes that have grown. Emma has never before seen an artichoke on the vine, and while the gardeners harvest a large portion of them before they can complete their life cycle, Regina specifically chooses to let a small section sprout its blooms.

When she first brings Emma to the garden to see them, Emma has no idea what she’s looking at. They look almost alien, standing tall and proud with gorgeous purple thistles bursting from the buds.

“What is that?” Emma asks.

“It’s an artichoke. It’s too late to eat these, but aren’t they beautiful?”

Emma runs her hand along the top of one of the blossoms, smiling at its softness. “Amazing.”

She finds Regina’s hand and threads their fingers together. “You’d have made a very nice farmer, Majesty,” Emma drawls, not really joking.

“I agree. Sometimes I think about what might have been,” Regina replies. “If my mother had been different.”

Emma pulls her into her arms. “Yeah.” She kisses Regina’s lips lightly. “But then we’d never have met.”

With a nod, Regina’s smile fades. “I know.” Despite the happiness Emma brings her, there is a sadness in Regina that will never go away. Emma feels it in herself too; she does not forget all the nights spent in foster care sleeping on cots, or the floor, or in beds overcrowded with other children. Both of their childhoods planted seeds of melancholy that continue to flourish no matter how good their lives are now. Emma is learning to accept this, while Regina knows no other way to live. The promise of their new baby does much to bring Regina hope, but the threat of Cora hovers overhead like a dark cloud.

“Do you really think it’s a girl?” Regina asks, touching her belly.

Emma rests a hand beneath Regina’s, closing her eyes. “I’m not sure. Shh, let me see if she says anything.” Emma glances around, but they are alone in the grove. She kneels and presses her ear to Regina’s bump, murmuring, “Hi, baby. Do you want to talk to your mom? Have anything you want to tell us?”

Emma moves her hand along Regina’s stomach, until Regina jerks. She stares down into Emma’s eyes, mouth open.

“What?” Emma gasps.

Regina inhales and lets out a cry. “She moved! I’m sure—yes, she moved!”

Tears spring to Emma’s eyes; it is more than she ever could have hoped for. Right away she thinks back to the first movement Henry made within her, how wonderful and terrible that moment had been. Knowing she would part with her son so soon afterward was a devastating blow. Today feels like a course correction in which all the right things are happening. Emma watches Regina’s belly in wonder, kissing it with all the love she has in the world. “Only a few more months now, baby, and you’ll be here. We can’t wait to meet you.”

Regina trembles above her, so Emma pulls herself up and drags her into a hug. “To answer your question,” Emma says, “yeah, I think it’s a girl.” She is laughing, and Regina laughs with her as they cling together, the scent of lemon blossoms floating around them on the cool breeze of spring.

\---

The very day after the baby’s quickening, word filters back to the castle that people are beginning to talk.

It doesn’t surprise Emma, since Regina is obviously pregnant. But it still sets Regina’s teeth on edge when Snow brings it up at breakfast. James is the only other person in the room.

“I’m only telling you because word is out. No one knows what to think, but someone must have said something. It’s not as though we’ve sworn the entire staff to secrecy,” Snow explains. “You’re five months along, Regina. We’re lucky you’ve made it this far without anyone noticing. Your change of wardrobe alone is cause for concern amongst the commoners.”

Emma flinches at the word _commoners_ , which just seems rude, while Regina glances down at her relatively modest bustier. She’s finally shifted away from the leather, preferring leggings and flowing black tunics to mask her bulk. She still insists on floor-length dusters when outdoors, although with summer coming they’re getting more difficult to wear.

“Maybe we should just announce it,” Emma suggests. “Better for people to know the deal than wonder if we’re keeping it secret.”

“No,” Regina barks. “I don’t want that. Anything that could lead to word getting back to Wonderland would end in disaster for all of us. Especially the baby.”

“Regina, if you’d only tell us why you think--” Snow asks, before Regina cuts her off.

“Because my mother made it very clear she never wanted me to have a child, and now I’m pregnant. I have a bad feeling about it, all right? Isn’t that enough?” Regina is pale; there is a slight sheen of sweat at her temples. The day has not started out well.

“It’s okay,” Emma says, putting a hand at the small of Regina’s back. Her muscles are tense, already feeling the strain of the extra pounds along her spine. “We don’t owe anyone anything. We don’t have to tell.”

“But we should tell,” Snow continues, absolutely certain. “You do owe it to the people. They have a vested interest in the future of the kingdom.”

“They’d be just as glad if I were dead,” Regina states flatly. 

James puts his hands on the table, and he exudes an authority that Emma is still getting used to. “That’s not true, Regina. You have done many things to incur their anger, but our people know what you did to defend us all against Rumpelstiltskin. You should have more respect for yourself by now.”

That brings Regina up short. She blinks at James before turning her attention to the table, and the toast and fruit on her plate. She’s speechless for once; since their return to the Enchanted Forest James has been kinder to Regina than anyone except Emma. That includes Henry, who endured Regina’s month-long recovery post-battle before he warmed up to her again. But James has always been quick to forgive, even knowing everything Regina had done to him and Snow and their family. It’s in his nature, and Emma is glad of it.

“When would you be comfortable telling, Regina, if not now?” Emma asks.

Without hesitation, Regina answers, “After she’s born.”

“That is an unlikely scenario,” Snow finally says. “We need to say something.”

“Let people talk,” Regina pleads. “For a few more weeks, at the very least.” She puts a hand to her stomach, almost without realizing how protective she seems while doing so. “Just a little longer. As long as we’re going about our business, why should it matter?”

Snow turns to James, who nods slightly in agreement. He reaches out for his wife’s hand. “There’s no harm in it. Let people talk. Let them wonder.”

Queen Snow sighs and looks at Emma. “Fine. A few more weeks.”

“Thanks,” Emma replies. She gives Regina a private smile, then decides to reward her mother. “The baby moved yesterday.”

All the reticence vanishes from Snow’s face immediately. She is overjoyed. “Oh my goodness, really?” All her attention is immediately drawn to the bump, and her hands reach out. Regina flinches, but allows the invasion with as much good nature as she can. “Is she moving now? Can you tell?”

“Not really,” Regina replies, glancing up at the ceiling and wincing only slightly. “She might be asleep.”

James nudges Regina’s shoulder with his fist. “You know if you have a boy we’re all going to look at him strangely for the first few weeks. I can’t stop thinking that it’s a girl.”

Regina smiles faintly at him. “Yes. It’s nice, nevertheless, to consider a girl. I won’t mind either way.”

“Me neither,” Emma states firmly. “But it’s a girl.”

\---

They almost get through three more weeks before the silence Regina requested comes to a shattering end with a visit from two unexpected guests.

The Blue Fairy has not breached the castle walls since Rumpelstiltskin’s defeat. She and Regina do not get along, and Emma has come to dislike her a great deal. That started soon after they arrived in the EnchantedForest, when Emma found out about Gepetto’s betrayal of Snow about the wardrobe. From then on, the fairy wasn’t welcome in their castle. Pinocchio, who Emma still thinks of as August, deserves her forgiveness, and he gladly accepted it. The Blue Fairy is another story.

Still, the Blue Fairy insists on seeing both Emma and Regina right away, and she’s got Nova with her.

“Cat’s outta the bag,” Emma murmurs to Regina, who takes her hand. To their visitor, she says, “I’d like Snow and James to hear whatever you have to say.”

“I’m not sure--”

“I don’t care what you’re sure about,” Emma replies. “I’m the freaking Princess of this castle, and I deserve your respect. It’s that or nothing.”

“Very well,” the fairy replies, exasperated.

Emma sends word for James and Snow to join them in the large, imposing chamber that was considered the war room during the skirmishes with Rumpel. Lately the space has stood empty, but the decorative armor and wall hangings depicting previous battles are strangely comforting to Emma. It feels like a museum, and she always loved museums as a kid. Maybe because they were air-conditioned, clean, organized and spacious, unlike the various homes she’d lived in.

Her parents join them quickly with anxious looks on their faces. “What’s happening?” Snow demands.

“Helllo, Queen Snow. I bring… information you may need in the coming months.” She glances down at Regina’s belly.

Regina touches her stomach as if to shield it. “What is it?”

The Blue Fairy begins, “I had heard rumblings of the possibility that Regina was with child, but laughed them off as wild speculation from a people with nothing better to do than gossip. But the rumblings grew louder, and with no official denial from the castle, I wanted to discuss the matter with my fellow fairies.” She turns to Nova, who immediately looks guilty. “Nova confessed to her interference.”

“It wasn’t interference,” Emma barks, standing up. She puts her hands on the enormous wooden table situated between her family and the two fairies across from her. “She gave me a wish. I made one. That’s what happened.”

“It was not her place--”

“You sure have a lot of rules, considering how much you screwed up my life, sister,” Emma says, trying to control her anger. “But you disregard them whenever you feel like it. What are your rules for giving out wishes, hmm? What about when someone truly needs help? Say, someone like Regina. Or do only certain people deserve to have their wishes granted? What are your _rules_ about that, huh?” Emma sneers at her. “Nova is a generous, kind fairy, and I will always be grateful for her gift. So if you’ve got a problem, leave her out of it. It was my wish. Nova didn’t get Regina pregnant. I did.”

The room is silent, the echo of Emma’s words hanging in the air. Nova smiles softly at Emma, and Emma nods to her. She won’t back down.

“Nevertheless, there is something you must know about this child,” the Blue Fairy continues, disregarding Emma’s questions. “There is a prophecy. Only a few of us know of it. It was delivered by Rumpelstiltskin, decades ago. When you were just a child, Snow White, and you a young girl, Regina.”

“What does it have to do with me?” Regina asks, shifting in her seat.

“You are a part of it,” the fairy answers. “So is your mother.”

Emma gasps; this is just what Regina has been afraid of all this time.

“No,” Regina moans, touching her stomach with both hands. “No, please.” She curls in on herself, the fear escaping before she has a chance to hide it. Snow and James gape, stunned at the uncharacteristic display of vulnerability.

The Blue Fairy continues, “This prophecy made your mother believe she was destined to rule, but also that you must never have a child of your own. It set her on a particular path, one she was already on, but it encouraged her to make certain choices at the behest of Rumpelstiltskin. He was always an instrument of destruction, and this case was no exception.”  

“What is the prophecy?” James asks, unable to look away from Regina.

The fairy inhales, and says, “ _When the Heartless Queen’s daughter bears a fatherless child, Red rule shall fall in a breath of fire._ ”

The four of them stare at her. Emma frowns, asking, “How would Cora have known she would be a Queen, and a heartless one--”

“My mother had already removed her own heart when I was just a girl,” Regina says flatly. “It was her special kind of magic, and she practiced on commoners in the village before she attempted it herself. She would have known right away that she was the heartless queen, or that she would be. Even when I was very young, and we were poor, she always, always believed she would be a queen.” She turns to Emma, defeated. “Rumpel must have warned her. So when I came of age, she made me barren.” A tear slips down her cheek; she wipes at it angrily. “And now I will have a child without a father. And her rule will end unless she kills me, or our child, first.”

The Blue Fairy nods. “That was my concern.”

“Concern?” Regina explodes, standing up so quickly her chair tips over behind her. “You have never spent a moment _concerned_ for my welfare, fairy. Do not pretend to worry over me now. You are only anxious because my mother will destroy this entire realm to get to me.” Regina slams her hand down on the table. “I will not sacrifice myself or my child to preserve the peace. I want this baby, and I will have her. Nothing you say or do will change that.”

Emma stands as well, slipping an arm around Regina’s waist. “You got that right,” she says. “Message received, Fairy. Anything else you’d like to add?” Emma asks.

The Blue Fairy shakes her head. “Only that we will defend this kingdom against the Queen of Hearts, if she invades. Every weapon we have will be at your disposal. Wonderland has been under her power for far too long, and if this child heralds a new beginning, we shall do all we can to bring it to fruition.”  

Emma senses Regina’s surprise. She sags, and Emma tugs her sideways and deposits her in her own chair.

“We mean you and your baby no harm, Regina,” the Blue Fairy says. “I intend to begin planning our defenses with your army, King James, if you will allow it.”

“Of course,” James says, leaning forward. “We must begin as soon as possible. How long do we have?”

Before she answers, Emma glances at Regina for her permission to reveal her due date. When Regina shuts her eyes in surrender, Emma replies, “Fourteen weeks if we’re on time.”

“That is better than nothing,” the fairy says. “And we have the added advantage that the Queen of Hearts most certainly has not heard of her daughter’s impending motherhood. Nor has she heard that the father is not a father at all. I vow, in your presence, to let no word from the fairies filter through the looking glass.”

Emma looks over at James, who bobs his head in assent. “I will send word through the army and the villagers that we must not allow this news to get out. We must explain Regina’s condition, but we must also make it clear that her child is Emma’s, and that she is of royal blood. Snow, are you agreed?”

Snow nods, gazing out the window. Emma wonders if she is remembering Cora as she once was, or if she is thinking of her as she is now. Maybe she’s thinking of something else altogether.

James turns to Regina and reaches out to take her hand. “We’ll protect you, Regina, and the baby, and Emma. To the death.”

Emma watches his face and knows that he is telling the truth. It’s more than she could ever ask for from a father or a king. Regina can’t seem to find the words to reply. Instead she bites her lip and nods.

To the Blue Fairy, James says, “We begin tomorrow after sunrise. Bring your most powerful allies here and we’ll get started.”

“I will attend as well,” Regina says, her voice rough and uneven.

“No, you must rest--” Snow begins.

“I know Cora better than anyone,” Regina declares. “I know her strengths and weaknesses. Besides, I have the most powerful magic in this realm. I will do everything I possibly can to defeat her. And if that means killing her, I will do so without hesitation.”

“Very well,” James says, reluctantly. “Sunrise. I’ll meet you in the hall for breakfast.”

Regina squeezes his hand and leans back into Emma’s embrace. “Let’s go,” she whispers.

Emma looks to her parents briefly before bidding a goodbye to the fairies. Nova rushes forward to Emma and Regina. “I am truly sorry for putting this all into motion.”

“It wasn’t you, dear,” Regina tells her off-handedly. “It was meant to be. And if the prophecy is correct, our child will be born, and my mother will fall. We must hold on to that.”

Nova brightens. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. Good. Farewell then. Both to you and to,” Nova motions to Regina’s belly, “to the new princess. Or prince.”

Emma pulls Regina toward the exit. They storm down the hall, making the long journey toward their bedroom. Henry is off at school, so they are alone when their door slams closed.

Regina does not move once they arrive. She stands in the middle of the floor, and Emma feels that she is beyond help or comfort. But she has to act, if only to comfort herself. Carefully she steps behind Regina and slides her arms around her waist. With her two hands, she holds their child, knowing that she would step in front of a bullet to protect them both. “Cora will come, Regina,” Emma says. “But we’ll be ready.”

Regina’s arms fall on Emma’s, and she threads their fingers together. “My mother is the worst threat imaginable. She has no feelings. Power is what she lives on, what she breathes and eats and craves. No matter how much she has it will never be enough.” Regina grips Emma’s hands so tightly it hurts. “Sometimes I wish I’d never been born.”

Just the sound of the words makes Emma lose her breath. “Never say that, Regina. Never.” Emma squeezes her eyes shut against the terror that the simple thought of a life without Regina brings. “Everything we have both suffered has brought us here, today. Now. I don’t regret a moment.”

“But so many people have been lost because of her, because of what she made me--”

“And so much of your life was planned, Regina. Engineered, by Cora, and Rumpelstiltskin. Don’t let them destroy you when we’re just coming to the best time of our lives. We’re together, we have Henry, we have people who care about us, who will do anything to defend us. We have to believe we can win.” Emma puts her mouth against Regina’s ear, praying that her words will hit home. “I love you, Regina. You’re worth fighting for.”

Regina’s breath is harsh as she exhales in a rush. “I’m trying,” she replies weakly. “I want to be worth fighting for.”

Emma turns her in her arms. “You are,” she says, holding her face close. “You always will be.” She kisses Regina, needing to make Regina feel it. “If you knew what was in my heart you would never doubt me. Not for a second.” Emma stares into her dark eyes, filled with an endless pain she wishes she could assuage. But Regina moves closer for another kiss, and then she pulls at Emma’s tunic and trousers.

This is familiar, this pull of their bodies together as they fall on the enormous bed, still unmade from the morning. It’s too easy to make love, but Emma won’t resist. She can’t. Black shoes and leggings and oversized blouse are tossed on the floor, while Emma drags her own clothes off as quickly as possible. When they’re bare, Emma kisses her, hands touching every inch of skin she can reach. The baby bump has not slowed them down, although it prevents Emma from being able to get her fingers where she wants them while still kissing Regina’s beloved mouth. Emma pulls away and slowly moves down Regina’s body, letting her hair trail along soft skin as her lips map their favorite route. Lean thighs part to make room for her between them, and Emma settles comfortably, seeking her own reassurance in the well-known taste and scent. She licks and inhales, one hand tracing up Regina’s side until fingers find hers.

“Emma,” Regina whispers, “Stay with me always.”

Emma nuzzles close, murmuring words of love into slick flesh. She presses inside with her free hand, two fingers and then three stretching her wide open. As she flicks her tongue in rhythm, Regina frees her hand and pushes herself up on her elbows. From this angle they can see into each other’s eyes. Regina is close already, and Emma gives it all she’s got until she feels the crush of pressure around her fingers, the cry of pleasure from above. Emma doesn’t let up, all the while keeping her focus on Regina’s beautiful face. When she calms, she slips her fingers free, tasting her once more before crawling up and finding Regina’s mouth. Their kiss is as urgent as it was when they first began, and Regina tugs her up to kneel above her head. It’s easier for her this way, and Emma is happy to oblige. It takes only a minute to get Emma right to the edge, grabbing the intricately carved headboard and hanging on for dear life. When Regina circles, her tongue darting out so exactly the way Emma loves, she curls in and trembles, willing the wave to crash over her. When it does, it’s a perfect relief, so sweet that it overwhelms her for a moment.

She can’t lose this love. Not now, or ever.

When Emma relaxes, Regina caresses her legs, mouth open against her inner thigh. Emma wriggles down to slide their bodies together. She wipes Regina’s face with a smile before kissing her, their tastes mingling.

“I’ll stay if you stay,” Emma says, answering Regina’s earlier words.

Regina bites her lower lip and touches Emma’s cheek with her thumb. Finally, she smiles gently. “It’s a deal.”

           

\---[  
](http://chilly-flame.livejournal.com/59635.html)

 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Sun Inside

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.

Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.

Length: 41K words, give or take

Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!

  


\---

For the next month, when Emma awakens each morning, Regina is gone from their bed. No more does she sleep in, and rarely do they have a late night. Instead they have supper early with James and Snow and Henry, and afterwards Regina does a strange combination of pre-natal yoga and tai chi that’s supposed to keep her relaxed. It’s not strenuous and it keeps her limbs lithe and flexible, but it doesn’t exactly chill her out. Whenever she joins Emma in their bedroom, she is wired, consumed with the thought of her mother’s discovery of their child’s imminent birth.

And despite Regina’s occasional hesitation, they make love on many of those nights. It gets out Regina’s excess energy, and more importantly, it keeps them close. When they finish, Emma asks how the day went, and Regina discusses the strategies they’re working toward. She has no answers, other than to say that she has been attempting a protective spell for the castle and some of the surrounding village. Emma, on the other hand, has been training like a fiend.

One evening after a very pleasant pair of orgasms, Emma reclines on the bed, stretching like a cat. Her lower back is a little stiff, but her efforts were worth it. Showing off, she flexes a bicep. “Check it out.”

Regina smiles as she runs her fingers along the muscles, long and lean in the candlelight. “I’ve noticed. You’ve dropped some weight, but once this is all over, you should put it back on. Go easier on the workouts.”

“Are you saying you don’t like my six-pack?” Emma teases, grinning wickedly as she flexes her stomach.

“I like it very much. But I liked you before, too. And you’re going to make me look like a whale by the time the baby comes.”

Emma strokes Regina’s belly, which has been expanding incrementally. She has gained little weight elsewhere, but her cheeks are slightly rounder, her breasts larger and softer. Emma gazes on the flesh laid out like a banquet before her and sighs. “I love you like this, Regina. If I’d known how gorgeous you were pregnant I’d have made this wish a long time ago.” She kisses one breast, avoiding the over-sensitive nipple, and licks her way to Regina’s ear. “You’re perfect as you are.”

“In your eyes,” Regina whispers, and Emma can hear the little break in her voice.

“Yeah,” Emma replies, pulling back. She sees shimmering tears, and frowns. “This isn’t about your body, is it.”

Regina’s mouth opens—she is searching for words. “I’m afraid,” she finally says, as if it takes great effort to admit this.

Emma just smiles. “Me too,” she replies. “But we’ve got so many people on our side--”

“No, not just of that. But I don’t know what kind of mother I’m going to be to my own child. She might—she might be just like me. What if she ends up hating me like Henry did?” The tears spill over and Regina grimaces. “What if all the terrible things I’ve done come back to haunt me through my own child? Oh god, Emma, I don’t think I can do this.”

Emma is frustrated at the declaration. She’s always understanding with Regina, always careful not to upset her, because she needs to stay calm and cool for the baby’s health. But this? Emma takes a deep breath. “We’re in this together. And what about me? I missed the first ten years of Henry’s life. I’ve never been a mom to an infant—at least you have experience.”

“Experience that put Henry in therapy. I was too clingy. Too worried I’d lose him. And I did! I lost--”

“You didn’t lose anything. Henry’s here, with us. He calls you Mom, and he always will.” Emma gives her a half smile. “And as for therapy, I sure could have used it when I was his age. God knew I needed it.”

“Because of me,” Regina spits, getting up from the bed and pulling on her robe. “Because I cursed you, and your parents, and everyone in this place. I ruined your childhood, Emma Swan. I destroyed your life.”

“What is going on?” Emma cries, wondering where all of this is coming from. Apparently the hour they spent making love did nothing to assuage Regina’s anxiety. “None of this is news. Why are you focusing on the past now instead of the future?”

“Because I realized something today. Every one of the men and women in the war room today see me as the evil queen. I will never get out from under that mantle, one I created myself. Our child will see that, she’ll see me as evil, as rotten as my own mother is. _She is going to see the darkness in my heart, and she will run from me_. Just as Henry did. Just as I ran from Cora.”

“Your mother killed the man you loved! She sold you to a king! She abused during your entire childhood, and you had no one to defend you!” Emma wants to tear her hair out. “You have to rise above the past, Regina. You have to. For us.”

“No, I don’t,” Regina says firmly. “I’ve been thinking, and I believe I have a new solution to our problem.”

Emma doesn’t even want to know what it is. She yanks on the tank top she’d pulled off earlier. Her underwear and trousers are next, because she is pretty sure she’s going to have to get some reinforcements to dismantle Regina’s argument, whatever it might be. “Hit me,” Emma says, sitting on the bed.

“I’ll have the baby, here, and leave her with you. I’ll go to Wonderland to stay, on my own.”

Emma waits for more. “And kill Cora?”

Regina frowns. “Of course not. I won’t have the power to kill her. But if I’m there, she’ll be able to focus her energy on me, and she won’t have the desire to harm the baby, or you, or anyone in the EnchantedForest.”

Emma stares at her, open mouthed. “You’re out of your fucking mind,” Emma snaps as rage washes over her. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”

“The only thing my mother has ever wanted was to control me. I escaped her, and for all these years I’ve been out of reach in Storybrooke. When she hears of the baby, and believe me, she will hear, I know I’ll be able to convince her--”

“Shut up!” Emma shouts. “Shut up right now, Regina! That is not an option, and it never has been. What the hell happened today that makes you think your mother would even consider this totally ridiculous idea?”

“Because I can’t protect the castle!” Regina shouts back. “My spells, they’re not working. I’ve tried to cast the enchantment for almost two weeks without success!” She turns away, hands at her hair, pulling. “I’m weaker now than ever before. I’m supposed to protect everyone and I can barely keep the castle gate down against a few men, _average human men_ , who try to lift it.” Shaking, Regina turns around. “My magic is fading, Emma. I don’t know when it happened, but I—I’m losing it. And I don’t know what to do, because this is my fault”

“Oh my god,” Emma breathes. The thought of Regina without magic knocks the wind out of her. She is their most powerful ally—even the fairies are no match. “Are you certain?”

“Of course I am!” Regina throws her hand out, and what normally would result in a little shower of sparks (a trick Henry loves) delivers nothing. Not even a wisp of smoke. Staring at her hand, Regina focuses harder, and a tiny flame is produced, but it vanishes in a moment. “I shouldn’t even have to think about it. All my training, my work, everything I’ve learned is gone. I tried a defense spell today against Charming and he knocked me down without even trying.” She covers her mouth. “Because of me Cora will come and I have no way to protect you, or Henry, or--” her face crumples and a hand falls against her belly. “I have nothing. I am nothing,” she whispers.

Emma makes it to her side in two strides. She holds Regina’s tear-streaked face in her hands. “You’re wrong. You’re everything. Everything in the world, to me, and your son, and your baby. If you lose your magic, so be it. We’ll find another way. There have to be other witches for you to speak to, who have heard of--”

“None who will talk to me. Maleficent refuses to see me, and honestly, I’m not even sure where she is. When we came home, she vanished right after I brought her back to human form. Yet another thing I brought on myself--”

“Enough with the blame,” Emma interrupts. “What’s done is done. We’ve talked about that a million times. I’m telling you, Regina, we will find another way. Cora won’t win. Evil never does.”

With that, Regina dissolves into real tears, horrible, heaving sobs as she clings to Emma helplessly. Emma holds on tight, determined to imbue her lover with strength.

At the same time, she feels a yawning terror in the pit of her stomach. Without Regina’s magic, they will be no match for the Queen of Hearts.

\---

The next morning, after they both toss and turn through a sleepless night, Emma goes with Regina to the war room. Snow is there at the head of the table with the Blue Fairy and Snow’s second in command, William. James is nowhere to be found, which is a shame, since Emma would prefer to discuss their situation with him. She knows there will be tension, as there always is, and Regina is deeply on edge.

“Emma, I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” Snow says, her glance twitching toward Regina. Emma wonders what kind of words they’ve exchanged recently, and if Snow knows the extent of what’s going on.

“I know. Usually I’d be training, but there’s something we should discuss,” Emma begins, glancing behind her. “Privately.”

Snow looks over the room, filled with men and women who hover over maps and documents that hold no meaning for Emma. She spots Grumpy and Happy in conversation with Nova and Gepetto in a corner, and their faces are serious. There is little chit-chat going on. “I would prefer not to keep secrets from this council and our comrades. We all have something to lose here.”

Regina shifts next to Emma, hands clenching. If Emma isn’t careful, she’ll bolt. The baby has barely slowed her down, and she’d make it to the stables in no time even without magic. “Mom, it’s important--” Emma tries.

“No,” Snow commands, and there is steel in her voice. “Here or nowhere. And calling me ‘Mom’ won’t help, Emma, you should know that by now.”

“Fine.” She turns to Regina with a sigh. “It’s not like you can hide it for much longer.”

The Blue Fairy’s brow furrows. “What is it?”

Emma watches Regina swallow. She has never looked more vulnerable or more delicate. Emma is about to answer for her when Regina says in a low voice, “I have no magic.”

Snow, William and the Blue Fairy have identical expressions on their faces; it’s disbelief, mostly, tinged with fear. “Pardon, Your Majesty?” William says, his salt and pepper beard shining in the sunlight.

“My magic is nearly gone. I have no power. No way to defend our land, our people.” Her hands open and close at her sides.

“What?” Snow cries. “How can this be?” She turns to the Blue Fairy. “Why is this happening?”

The Blue Fairy is nearly breathless when she replies. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of such a thing. I know of no witch who has lost power during a pregnancy. That said, I have little personal experience with anyone of your magical caliber, Regina. Those who call on dark forces tend to shy away from working with the fairies.”

“I don’t do that anymore,” Regina snaps. “You know that. I have performed nothing but protective spells and simple charms since Rumpelstiltskin’s death.”

“When did you notice a problem?” Snow asks. “Was it sudden?”

Regina hesitates to answer, and Emma finally does it for her. “No,” Emma says, “But she didn’t say anything until last night. James probably knows something’s happened, though. Has he said anything?”

Snow’s face grows angry. “Not a word.”

“Well, now you know,” Emma says. If her parents want to fight over this, that’s their prerogative, but Emma’s not getting involved. “So now we just have to decide how to move forward.”

Snow practically grits her teeth. “Move forward?” Her eyes flash at Regina. “If you’re lying, Regina, so help me--”

“Why would I lie?” Regina shouts so loudly that the entire room turns to watch. “Why would I put myself completely at your mercy? Do you have no memory of what my mother is capable of? She will string me up in front of all the world, keep me alive just to torture me. She will kill this baby in front of my eyes! She will kill every last one of you as well, knowing that I will suffer for every life and every death. Make no mistake, my mother will show no mercy to any of us, least of all me. Besides, I already have everything I’ve ever wanted. I would gain nothing through a lie.”

With that, Regina turns and begins to storm away, but Emma catches her wrist even as her loving words settle over her like a blanket. Regina tries to shake her off without success. “No,” Emma says. “You can’t run. Stay and face them. For me.” Regina stares at the wall. “Please.”

Regina clenches her jaw, but nods. “Fine.” She whips around, and despite her changed stature, she is as regal as she has ever been. A queen, now and always. Emma holds her hand and feels the small tremors running through her. Despite her fear, her voice booms through the room. “We must come up with another solution to defeat the Queen of Hearts. I may have lost my magic,” Regina admits to the group, her voice never losing strength, “but I still know Cora. I will do everything in my power to fight her. _Everything_. Is that understood?”

The faces are stunned, but heads begin to nod, slowly at first, and then with conviction. Emma pulls Regina closer to her side, sliding an arm low around her waist. Regina’s free hand covers her belly, and to Emma’s surprise, she smiles. “She’s kicking,” Regina murmurs to Emma in a low voice.

“She must have heard you,” Emma replies, wishing she could feel it. She wants so desperately to share in the moment, but with so many eyes on them, it’s awkward.

“Is it the baby?” Snow asks, stepping forward with some concern.

Regina nods. “She’s… very active right now. I think she wants to fight too.”

There’s light laughter around the room, and the simple fact of a baby kicking can dissolve tension in a room that was brimming with it just seconds earlier. Snow comes closer, reaching out. She asks, “May I?”

Regina takes Snow’s hand and presses it to the top of her stomach, closing her eyes. She inches it to right until Snow gasps. “I feel it!” She laughs, glancing over her shoulder at William. “I feel it.”

More members of the council crowd around Regina, and Emma can’t help but feel a sense of pride. That’s her baby kicking, the baby she made with the love of her life. The baby who will take down Cora’s reign simply through the act of being born. Emma can barely think past the moment of her birth. It’s all she thinks about when she’s training—meeting her child with Regina and Henry and Snow and James around them.

Regina’s fingers rest against Snow’s lightly, and their eyes meet. Somehow, Emma sees the hint of affection that Snow insists once existed between them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Snow finally says. “We’ll figure something out. Good always wins.”

Regina flinches, but Emma smiles.

“Everyone, we’ll have to change our strategy,” Snow announces to the room, “but I am no less convinced that we will succeed. The prophecy says we will. We must hold on to that.”

A mumble of assent goes around the room. Snow pats Regina’s belly. “Good. Then let’s begin. Regina, join us at the table.”

“Of course,” Regina says, standing a little straighter in her boots. She squeezes Emma’s hand. “Go. Speak to James, and Red if she’s there. I’ll see you for dinner?”

“Okay.” She presses her lips close to Regina’s ear, breathing in her scent. “Love you.”

“Mm,” Regina hums, a little grin curving her lips. “Yes.”

Just because she can, she smacks Regina’s ass lightly in full view of the whole room. She ignores the haughty response of disbelief and struts out, pulling the heavy door closed behind her.

\---

A few nights later, the reality of the situation sinks in: Regina’s magic is gone. Completely.

There are no more magic shows for Henry, no quick clothing changes, no instant fires in the fireplace of their chambers. Regina continues to wear her mask of confidence, which slips now and then with Emma, but no one else.

As she does each night, Regina leaves their chambers to spend a good twenty minutes with Henry on her own in his room. Emma never asks either of them what they talk about, but Regina looks forward to it all day long, and Henry seems to feel the same. Emma just hopes they’ll be able to spend more time together after this Cora business is resolved, assuming they don’t die in the meantime.

While Emma waits for Regina’s return, she plans what she’s going to tell Henry. He’s one of the few people who need to know about the magic situation, but Regina has admitted she can’t do it. At first she demanded that Henry be kept in the dark, but Emma had her argument prepared. With so many children in his class from families of the guards or villagers, word will trickle down. He would never forgive either of them if he found out the truth from someone else. Emma volunteered to deliver the news, and now, she waits.

The typical twenty minutes is far longer tonight, and Emma wonders if Regina is dragging it out or if she’s simply seeking comfort. In any case, the moon is high in the sky by the time she enters their bedroom, eyes downcast. “Go ahead,” she says, her voice rough. Before she can get caught up in soothing Regina, Emma slips from the room, wanting to get this over with.

Henry’s door is cracked open, and silver light streams in across the duvet. The soft cover has been sewn with images of fire-breathing dragons and knights on horseback, courtesy of Regina. Emma recalls the first time she saw it, realizing that one of the knights was blonde and definitely female. Now every time she sees the image it makes her smile. Even tonight.

“Hey, kid?”

“Emma?” Henry replies sleepily. “What’s wrong?”

“If you’re too tired, I can talk to you in the morning--”

“No, I’m up,” he says, sitting up against the ornate headboard. “Come in.”

She does, taking a seat next to him. She can see well in the moonlight, so she doesn’t bother with a candle. It might be easier saying this in the darkness anyway. “Hi.”

Henry leans back, watching her. “It’s something bad, right?”

“Well,” she swallows, “it’s not great.”

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Emma takes a deep breath, and exhales the words as quickly as possible: “So your mom, she can’t do magic anymore.” The words hang in the air between them. His face doesn’t change; he barely seems surprised. Instead, after a moment, he looks thoughtful, eyes narrowing.

“None at all?” he asks.

Emma shakes her head.

Another minute passes until he nods. “I get it. It’s just adversity, part of the hero’s journey. It’s okay, Emma. It won’t matter when Cora comes. Either Mom won’t need magic or she’ll get it back or something. Is she all right?”

 _Hero’s journey_? “What are you talking about, kid?”

He rolls his eyes, and in the gesture she sees the teenager he’s about to become. “Good will win, and Mom is good now. The adversity is just in the way. It’s natural for stuff like that to happen to the hero before she defeats the bad guy. And sometimes the bad guy is a parent, like Darth Vader, you know? Mom was on the dark side, but she changed. Cora won’t change, though. I’m pretty sure of that. Even though it’s never too late to go back to good, I’m not seeing it happen. She’s more like Emperor Palpatine, in my opinion.”

Emma frowns, wondering at the thought he’s already put into this. “Henry, this isn’t a story,” she reminds him. “This is real life. Everything doesn’t always turn out the way we want it to--”

“It _is_ a story, Emma. It’s _our_ story. I trust Mom, and you, and James and Snow White and all the dwarves and the guards and Red and Granny and everyone. More than ever. Whatever plan you come up with is going to work, and Mom will beat Cora, and she’ll have the baby and we’ll be okay.” He puts a hand on hers, and says with a certainty Emma wishes she had, “You just have to believe.”

She smiles, gazing into his open face. “I’ll try. I hope you’re right.”

“I am. You’ll see. But you didn’t tell me about Mom. Is she doing okay? She didn’t say anything about it when she was here before.”

“I know. She thinks it’s her fault.”

He nods. “Yeah, she would.”

Emma’s eyebrow twitches. Henry might have more insight into Regina’s soul than anyone alive, including herself.

He continues, “She’s gonna have to forget about that though. You tell her I said so, okay? She just has to be positive and it will work.”

Emma pulls him into a hug, smelling his hair, which has a distinctly “I rolled in dirt today and didn’t bathe afterward” smell to it. She loves it. “I will, kid. Sometimes I think you should be in the war room with your mom and Snow. You’d probably have as much to offer as anyone would.”

“I’m available on the weekends,” he jokes, and Emma laughs.

“Got it.” She kisses his forehead. “Sleep good, okay?”

“I will. And seriously, Emma, don’t worry about Mom. It’s going to be fine.”

She looks down into his face, and just for a second, she believes him. Maybe she should take his advice. What’s the harm in it? In the end, the results will be the same whether she thinks positively or not. “Remind me of that, okay? Every day.”

“Sure.” He grins, and she ruffles his hair. “Night.”

“Night.” She leaves the bedside and looks back as he turns on his side to look out the open window. Leaving the door cracked, she heads down the hall back to the room. Regina, too, is gazing out into the night sky, her brow furrowed.

“Hey,” Emma says.

Regina doesn’t turn around. “How did it go?”

Emma goes to her and wraps her arms around her waist from behind. “Amazing, actually. You raised an awesome kid.”

“Not just me,” Regina murmurs, running her fingers along Emma’s wrist. “What did he say?”

“He said that Cora was Emperor Palpatine, and that she’d get hers in the end, whether you had magic or not. Because that’s what happens during the hero’s journey.”

Regina snorts. “Who’s the hero?”

Emma kisses her neck. “You are, silly.”

“Me?” Regina asks sharply. “You’re the hero, dear. You must have misunderstood him.”

“Nope. You turned from the dark side, and losing your magic is just _adversity_ that you’ll work through. His words exactly.”

“What in the world are they teaching him in that school?” Regina asks, shaking her head. “Filling his head with all sorts of ridiculous ideas.”

“I don’t think they teach ‘Star Wars’ mythology in the village. But you must have watched the movies with him, right?”

Regina sighs. “Interminably. When he was nine we watched all three of the old ones for six months straight.”

“So you have no one to blame but yourself,” she says, nibbling an ear. “Anyway, he’s pretty sure it’s going to be fine. When she gets here you’ll just throw Cora down a vortex of energy and she’ll erupt in a big ball of evil and die. The end.”

“Gods, if only it were that easy.” Regina leans more heavily into Emma’s arms, and she can feel her fatigue. “The problem is that no barrier we create will be impenetrable. The fairies have charmed the castle with protections, but she’ll be able to break through eventually. And if her army is even half the size it used to be, they’ll overwhelm ours quickly.”

“How do you think they’ll come?”

“My guess is she’ll bring them through the looking glass and open a portal as close to the castle as the enchantments allow. Snow believes she’ll use the conventional path to the gate, but I disagree.”

“What do you think?”

Regina’s mouth hardens. “She’ll come by water.”

Emma glances out onto the enormous body of water that surrounds this part of the castle. “On a boat?”

“No,” Regina says. “My mother’s specialty is ice. She can freeze anything instantly. If I were her, I’d come through the portal first, freeze the lake and make an ice bridge over the rocks right into the castle. The army would follow en masse and climb right in. They’ll attack our forces from behind, working their way through the least experienced first. While the fighting goes on, she’ll focus on me. Any losses on her side would be secondary—she will only care about finding and killing me, and the baby.”

“Power is everything to her,” Emma says, dismayed.

“As long as I’ve been alive, that’s been true.”

“Why is that?” Emma asks softly. “Do you know?”

“No,” Regina replies. “I used to wonder. I asked my father once when I was young, but he swore he didn’t know.”

“Did you believe him?”

Regina chuckles ruefully. “Not really.”

“Doesn’t matter now, I guess,” Emma decides. “You’ll probably never know.”

“I’ve lived in fear of her for so long that at least when this is all over, it will be done. I’ll never have to look over my shoulder again. Especially not if I’m dead.”

“Don’t talk like that, Regina,” Emma says, stroking her belly. “Henry says that we should think positive.”

“He’s a child. He doesn’t know any better.”

“You just like assuming the worst,” Emma says, taking a risk. She doesn’t usually poke at Regina’s mood like this, but she wants to try and change her outlook. “If you assume the worst and it happens, at least you can say you were right.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Regina scoffs. “I’m nothing like that.”

“Then act like it. Have hope. I want to have a baby with you, and raise her with you. I can’t do that if you’re dead. So do me a favor and don’t die, okay?”

After a second, Regina laughs. She turns to Emma and smirks. “Okay.”

“Good,” Emma says, smiling. “Just keep your head down and let me do the fighting. I’ll protect you.” As she gazes into Regina’s lovely dark eyes, she thinks, _I’d die for you_. She doesn’t say the words aloud, but she thinks Regina knows anyhow.

Later, they sleep pressed tightly together, Emma curls around Regina’s back. She feels her daughter kicking now and then, and the gentle thumps reassure her. _Have hope_ , she tells herself over and over. _Believe_.

\----

 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Sun Inside

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.

Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.

Length: 41K words, give or take

Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!

  


REGINA 

Regina is awakened by the unusual sensation of movement in her belly. The baby nudges her a few times, and although this curiosity has been going on for some time, it still feels odd. She’s not sure if it’s an arm or a leg pushing at her from the inside, but she doesn’t mind. She glances over at Emma, whose face is half obscured by the pillow. Her hair is pulled back with a strip of leather, and she breathes lightly and evenly.

She is Regina’s every hope personified.

All the good things Emma tells Regina each day ease her burden immeasurably, no matter how much Regina denies it. Just having her here, in her bed, gives her more than she can express. And the baby that flips and stretches inside her, well, that is a gift that Regina will never be able to repay.

Especially as the other gift Emma gave her, Henry, sleeps easy down the hall, safe and warm.

She reaches out and touches Emma’s cheek so gently she doesn’t feel a thing. She slides off the mattress without jarring it and goes to the dresser. Weeks ago she would have used magic to dress, to save time and energy, but that is no longer an option. She selects a snug, royal purple top that flares at the waist and gives her confidence. She tops it off with a set of specially sewn black trousers, altered to accommodate the baby. She skips the typical open skirt that shows her legs, since the tunic is so long that it swings over her hips. Sexy yet subtle, and just strong enough to suggest power, despite her lack of it.

That said, the mirror is unforgiving this morning. Her cheeks are puffy, as are her eyes. She’d cried the night before while Emma was with Henry, telling him of her lost magic, but she’d hidden the evidence the best way she could. Fortunately Emma hadn’t noticed, falling into a deep slumber shortly after they’d crawled into bed together.

Regina, on the other hand, had slept poorly. Her child had been awake for a long time too, and Regina almost felt as though she was keeping her company in her loneliness. It’s still a shock in the morning when she touches her stomach and feels the rise where there used to be none. Pleasure inevitably replaces the surprise, and she often spends long minutes with her eyes closed, just running her fingers along the swell. Today, she didn’t take the time to do this, too impatient to get to the war room. She wants to speak plainly to Snow and James of her suspicions about Cora.

When she enters the informal dining room, James is there, as always. He sips from a cup of strong black coffee and smiles at her as she strides in.

“Nice shirt,” he says, his sideways grin as disarming as ever.

“Thank you, Charming,” she replies, their banter relaxing her. “I dressed for you, as always.”

“Glad to hear it.” He pushes a plate of fruit across the table toward her. “I kept back some blueberries. Had to fight Sneezy for them, so you’re welcome.”

“I’m sure it was a challenging battle. You look much the worse for wear.”

“Thanks,” he replies. Glancing down at his empty plate, he asks softly, “How’s Henry?”

Regina scoops some berries onto her plate, taking a banana and a ripe peach too. “Better than I am.”

“You don’t look like you slept well.”

“I didn’t,” Regina snipes. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“But the baby--”

“The baby kept me up half the night. She’s nocturnal.”

He sits back in his chair and smiles. “Sounds about right.”

Regina looks at him, a spoonful of berries and yogurt halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

“Emma was like that. She kicked both of us awake often, if I remember correctly. Moreso near the end.”

Glancing down at her stomach, Regina sighs. “Great. I’ll look forward to that.”

“Consider it payback for making Snow’s entire pregnancy miserable,” James quips, unafraid to bring up the past. Of everyone, James seems to be easiest with their history.

“Well, I’m at least slightly sorry,” Regina says, catching his eye and lifting a brow as he chuckles.

“Glad something’s changed,” James replies, draining his coffee and placing a hand on his sword as he swings his leg over the bench. “Meet you in the war room.”

She nods, grateful he’ll be joining them today. He has a better time making Snow see reason than she ever does. “James, wait,” she says, catching him before he departs. “Snow refuses to believe that Cora might come by water. But we have to consider it, plan for it at the very least. Help her understand, please.”

He gazes thoughtfully at Regina. “I’ll do my best. I keep hoping you two will--” he pauses. “Never mind. See you in a few.”  

Regina finishes her breakfast in silence, savoring the single cup of coffee she’s allowed each day. She used to make it last far longer, zapping it with a little magical heat to keep it warm, but those days are over. The caffeine clears the last of the cobwebs and gives her the energy to throw herself into the fray once more.

It’s good that she took her time on breakfast, because the moment she enters the room, Snow flies at her. “What are you doing, using my own husband against me to steer our armies in the wrong direction?”

Exhaling, Regina shuts the door and closes her eyes for a moment. “Snow, please--”

“That’s Queen Snow to you, _Regina_ ,” Snow says. “You should remember your place here, serving at the pleasure of your sovereigns.”

Regina bites the inside of her cheek, remembering Emma’s request not to pick a fight. But she didn’t start this one, she reasons, so she opens her mouth with a sneer. “Sometimes it’s difficult to remember your status, considering how idiotic, not to mention myopic your strategy is--”

Snow is incensed. “I could have you thrown in jail for such an insult!” she shouts.

“I’d be safer behind bars than I would be alongside your army!” Regina replies sharply.

As Snow inhales, James steps between them. “Stop it, both of you!”

“Charming, she has no right to come in here and take over, and she’s using you to get to me! How dare she! She’s lucky we even let her stay in the castle,” Snow declares.

Regina’s voice is deadly serious, and the air is electrified at her words. “Whether you like it or not, without me you will _fail_ against my mother. And you will all die at her hand.”

There is a silence, as everyone stares at the three of them in the center of the room.

James turns to Snow. “Just listen to her, if only for a minute--”

Snow doesn’t even let him finish. “There is too much risk for Cora to come across the water. How in heaven’s name could her armies charge over ice? They’ll have limited range of motion, they won’t be able to move quickly enough, and they’d be in as much danger as we would be of falling through and drowning.”

“You forget, _Your Majesty_ , my mother has a great deal of control over her magic,” Regina insists. “The woman you knew as a child is infinitely more powerful now than she ever was then. And believe me, she revealed almost nothing of her true strength to either you or your father. If she wants her army to come across the ice, they will be able to. If she wants them to walk on water, they’ll be able to do so. All we can do is prepare. There is no reason at all for you to deny us this opportunity, other than to deny me personally. Is that what this is about?”

“No,” Snow snaps. “This is about practicality--”

“My mother is anything but practical. She will attack from all sides, and she will use the element of surprise. Our best bet is to assume that she will be one step ahead of us--”

Snow interrupts, “She doesn’t even know about the baby! How would she be able to plan so far ahead if she doesn’t even realize--”

“Because she’s known about the prophecy for decades, you fool! She knows it will happen, she just doesn’t know when. We’re the ones who are light years behind her in planning. It is insane to think that she will not foresee every contingency we put in motion. She is a stellar tactician, and believe me, when it comes to anticipation, her only match was Rumpelstiltskin.”

The room goes still at this, and Regina believes she’s finally made progress. None of them considered the idea that the Queen of Hearts had been planning her attack years in advance; Regina only realized it recently herself. Cora will move quickly and savagely to put down their fight. Regina believes that their advantages were her own magic and the love she has for her children and for Emma. But now she’s only left with love, and that is still a weakness. Regina will so easily be threatened, so easily broken. If she loses any one of the three dearest to her, she will be decimated.

Snow stares at her as the truth sets in. “Gods,” she whispers. 

Regina laces her fingers together against her belly. “Now you see,” she says, her voice low. “Let’s start the day again. Shall we?”

Snow nods, glancing at James. “All right.”

James watches Regina, his eyes gracious and soft. “Good morning, Regina. I trust you slept well,” he says.

Regina allows a gentle smile. “Quite,” she replies, and takes her seat at the council table.

\---

They make little progress in the next weeks as far as strategy. Instead they work on building their physical, brute force. James and Snow take a break from the war room and join the training sessions. Regina continues working with some of the elder council members and dwarves, discussing recruitment of other armies some distance away from the realm. They have reached out, and some forces have come forward, but they’re limited. They know the risks involved better than anyone, since Cora is well known far beyond the EnchantedForest.

In the afternoons, Regina retires to the library, where she’s supposed to rest.

She does not. Instead she scours her own collection of books for hints about her own loss of magic, and potential ways to defeat her mother. She starts at the beginning, remembering her earliest training with Maleficent, and how desperate she was then to destroy the young woman who had ruined her life. How little, yet how much has changed.

In Storybrooke the calm of daily life, with its mundane tasks like grocery shopping and paperwork and child care, kept her distracted from missing her magic. She’d often wished to have it, but the lack of it didn’t consume her thoughts the way it does here. She hides it well, at least she hopes she does, from Emma, and more importantly from Snow White. She cannot allow her pride to falter in front of her old nemesis. While they are on the same side, Snow still gets under her skin simply by existing.

As Regina reads, memories flow from of thousands of hours of work and practice that now mean nothing. Regrets and losses weigh heavily on her mind. So does fear for the lives of everyone she loves. The familiar texts soothe her as much as the baby’s movements do, and still she yearns to identify something, anything that will help.

One afternoon as the sunlight fades into a late summer evening, Regina reclines on a settee. She is paging through one of her more advanced tomes when she drifts off into a lucid dream. She sees Maleficent, younger and somehow smaller, but still with her sinister smile. She transforms into a dragon, then morphs quickly into a unicorn, and Regina frowns. That makes little sense, but then Maleficent becomes herself again, and in her hand is a loose thread. She reaches out.

“Pull,” Maleficent says, placing her hand in Regina’s.

Regina looks down, and in that dream state, she holds the dark thread in between her thumb and forefinger. She pulls, and Maleficent gasps. Regina turns toward her, sees her face graying, and stops.

“Don’t you remember?” Maleficent says. “You have to try.”

Then Maleficent is a swirl of smoke, and Regina is alone. Suddenly she notices the huge shadow on the wall, and the dread that fills her reminds her of the locked closet she’d sometimes slept in as a girl, just to feel protected. Anything to escape that shadow.

Something brushes her fingers; it’s her horse, Louis. “Take me away from here,” Regina whispers, and when she opens her eyes, Emma’s lovely face hovers above. Her expression is open, almost surprised, and the color of her eyes is like the ocean.

“Where do you want to go?” Emma asks.

Regina blinks, asking, “What?”

Emma smiles. “You said, ‘Take me away from here.’ Just say the word and we’re gone. Anywhere you want to go.”

“Am I awake?” Regina says, the dread from the dream still hanging over her. She looks at the wall, which is thankfully bare and shadowless.

“Yeah. What were you dreaming about?”

Regina tries to recall, although the images are already fading. “About Maleficent, I think. We were doing magic, years ago, and there was… something. She was telling me something.”

Emma doesn’t prod her; her patience is a balm.

“It’s gone,” Regina finally admits. The dream is just a faint memory now, although the fear of the dark force in it remains potent.

“Do you think it was important?” Emma asks.

“I hope not.”

Emma chuckles. “Me too.” She puts her hands to Regina’s belly and is rewarded almost immediately with a prodding elbow or knee. “How’s this one?”

Regina sighs. “Antsy. She’s pressing on a nerve in my back, and my feet are killing me. The heat isn’t helping, either.”

“Think she could use a bite to eat?”

With a nod, Regina sits up. Emma helps her to her feet, pressing tender lips below Regina’s ear. “Thank you, dear,” Regina says, taking a hand in hers. “I need a bathroom break. As usual.”

Regina makes her stop on the way to the dining room, sighing in relief when she emerges. “I can’t believe I have at least six more weeks of peeing every half hour. That will be really nice to leave behind.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss that,” Emma says with a wry grin. “At least we have good plumbing now. Putting in that system as soon as we got here was probably the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“It’s not perfect but it works,” Regina says. She can’t imagine going back to the old ways when it comes to plumbing—the lack of proper air conditioning and refrigeration was also on her list, but they’ve since been superseded by other concerns. “Think there’s any ice cream left from last week?”

Emma’s eyebrow twitches. “I think we can rustle something up from the ice house. If you’re nice to me.”

“Nice to you?” Regina replies drolly. “I’m seven and a half months pregnant and carrying your child. I expect you to cater to my every whim, and I want ice cream. After I have some maybe I’ll be nice to you,” she adds, sliding a hand down to Emma’s ass as they approach the dining room door.

“You might want to move your hand,” Emma says as she leans for the wrought iron handle.

“And why is that?”

“So the guests don’t get an eyeful.” She pulls open the door, and the larger dining table has been moved to the center of the room where it’s surrounded by familiar faces. In the middle of it is a huge feast, with candles illuminating the table.

Regina is so stunned that she doesn’t remove her hand, and a good number of people start laughing. “What is this?” she asks, pretending that the small squeak to her voice didn’t actually happen.

“It’s your birthday, Your Majesty.” At Regina’s open mouth, Emma explains, “I know you forgot. So did I. But Henry didn’t.”

“Oh,” Regina exhales, searching the room for her son’s face. He is there, in the middle of everyone, wearing his most evil grin. “Well.” She swallows and fights the tears that naturally form in her eyes, because sometimes it still shocks her that he cares for her again.

“Happy birthday, Mom.” He holds out his arms, and his head tucks below her chin now as he hugs her. Her boy is growing up so fast.

“Thank you for remembering, dearest. I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you too,” he answers quietly. “Everyone I invited came.”

Around the table are Red, her boyfriend Jacob, Granny, Jiminy (who chose to stay in human form), Grumpy, Nova, and Abigail and Frederick, who traveled a great distance to be here. Regina hasn’t seen Abigail in months, and her friend’s smile is wide as her eyes fasten on the Regina’s belly. Snow is also here (probably under duress) with James, who comes forward. Regina takes his hands as he kisses her cheek. “Happy birthday, Regina.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Regina says, unaccustomed to so many smiling faces pointed in her direction all at once. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’re hungry so we can get started on this turkey,” Granny says, holding aloft a huge carving knife.

There’s a titter of laughter around the table, and Regina says, “I’m hungry.”

The dinner is very pleasant, and while they try to avoid the topic, the coming battle is central to the conversation. Abigail, however, later steers the chatter in the direction of the baby, despite her association with Cora.

“And why are you so certain it’s a girl?” she asks.

“We’re not,” Emma answers.

“I can tell,” Henry interjects, sitting up on his knees in his chair. “I knew it right away.”

“How?” Frederick asks.

Henry just shrugs. “I don’t know. It just makes sense. If Mom has a girl and a boy, that seems right. Although if it does turn out to be a boy, that’s okay too. A brother would be cool. Just maybe not as cool as a sister. I always wanted a sister.”

Regina inhales; the sound of it is quiet, but Emma touches her back softly.

“I never knew that, Henry,” Emma says.

“Yeah.” He looks down at the little pile of peas he’s bunched up on his plate, probably in a plan to eventually shove them into his napkin. “I didn’t think it was going to happen. But then we got here, and there’s magic. That’s really why I think it’s a girl, I guess. Because I wanted it for like, years.”

Regina wishes desperately she’d learned this piece of information out of the sight of everyone around the table, because her raging hormones are heightening her emotions. The usual tears flow, and though she tries to hide it, she is unsuccessful. Snow and James are used to it by now, but Granny, Red, Abigail and Frederick all gape in her direction. Jiminy just smiles his knowing smile, while Jacob, the one Regina knows the least about, says, “I think that’s awfully nice. I never had a sister, Henry, but I always wanted one too.”

“Do you have brothers?” Henry asks him, thereby distracting some of the group from Regina.

“Two,” he replies. “And they were wild. I was the youngest, so I was always getting into trouble with my mom when they made me do crazy things.”

“What kinds of crazy things?” Henry asks.

When Jacob starts to explain, Regina tunes out, blotting her tears with a napkin Granny hands her from across the table. Regina is beyond embarrassed, but there’s an odd tenderness in Red’s eyes, as well as Granny’s. Emma’s hand rests on Regina’s thigh beneath the table, and the baby shifts inside her. Turning to Jacob, she doesn’t pay much attention to what he’s saying, but she likes that he’s having real conversation with Henry. She glances at Red, who is staring right at her, those wolfish eyes making her feel unnervingly exposed.

“You look good, Your Majesty,” Red says softly, out of earshot of most of the guests. “Pregnancy agrees with you.”

“Thank you, dear. Your new… friend is very nice.”

“Yeah. He looks like a bad ass, but he’s got a soft heart. Like somebody else I know,” she says slyly, and Regina pretends she’s talking about Emma. “He’s got a red cloak of his own, by the way. We’ll be on the front line when your mother comes, and the fairies might be able to force us to change.”

Regina is startled; she hadn’t realized that was an option.

“Of course, we might eat our own people if we’re unlucky, so ah, I’m hoping we don’t have to. I’m not bad with a broadsword, and Jake’s really strong.” She peeks over at him, since he’s still conversing with Henry. “I like him, a lot. He’s gorgeous, right?” she asks, eyebrows waggling.

“Oh, yes,” Regina agrees, checking him out. Tall and brawny with softly curling dark hair that comes to his shoulders, he has a five o’clock shadow and strong jaw that Regina can’t help but appreciate. “Definitely.”

“I used to think we only had one true love here,” Red says, drawing Regina’s eyes back to her own. “I lost mine, you know. His name was Peter.”

Regina nods, thoughts of Daniel drifting into her mind. Somehow it’s less difficult now, to remember. Her heart still aches, but it’s eased in the last year or so. Because of Emma. “I know,” she says. “It takes a long time to move on.” She doesn’t say _let go_ , because she can’t do that. But moving on is something she can achieve.

“Since we’ve been back, something changed,” Red says, bringing Regina back to her original thought. “I might be able to love him. I feel it, here.” She touches her chest. “Like you, with Emma.”

“I’m happy for you, Red. Truly.”

“He understands me, more than anyone. Other than Granny, no one else can really know what it’s like. Being what we are, I mean.”

“Don’t be afraid to say it,” Regina tells her. “There are far worse things in this world.”

Red shrugs. “At least no one’s trying to kill us at the moment. That’s how we found each other. A while back I got wind of a hunting party in the North lands, tracking a werewolf. I followed them, and I got to Jake before they did. He was living off the land, but the winter was rough in the mountains and he was nearly starving. And he had no cloak then, so at the full moon, we, um, shared.” Red realizes what she’s confessed to, and they laugh together. “It was innocent, at first.” Her grin returns. “Not so much now.”

“I should think not,” Regina drawls, eyeing his well-defined forearms and rough hands. He’s surprisingly elegant for someone so powerful, and she imagines his wolf must be absolutely terrifying in action.

“I was glad to bring him tonight. I wanted you to meet him. And Emma already likes him.”

Regina glances at Emma, who is listening to Jacob and Henry chat, but Emma turns to Red when she hears her own name. “Hmm?”

“Oh, nothing,” Red says. “You look crazy fit, Em. What the hell are you doing all day long?”

“Beating people up,” Emma replies, stealing another piece of bread from a basket on the table. “I took down James yesterday, but he’s a little soft so it’s not like it was that big of a challenge,” she adds.

“I heard that,” James says from across the table. “Watch out, kiddo, or I won’t go easy on you tomorrow.”

“As if,” Emma says, her brash attitude reminding Regina of the days when they first met, when Emma was full of bluster and insouciance. Regina likes the look of it on her again, and enjoys the one-upmanship going on around the table. But even more, she enjoys the squeeze of Emma’s fingers around her thigh. The wine is flowing freely and Emma has had her fair share. Her laugh is easy and low, while her cheeks are flushed with pleasure. The conversation gets a little louder, but when Emma’s eyes meet Regina’s, there is a familiar spark of heat. It amazes her that Emma is still so attracted to her in her current state, despite all of the unpleasantness that comes along with pregnancy. She has grown in every direction, but Emma seems to adore her body’s deep curves and valleys as much as she did her slimmer figure. In fact, she has a feeling that much adoration is going to be spent on her this evening, if she can get Emma back to their rooms without either of them falling over.

But before Regina can make her apologies and depart her own celebration early, Granny stands and announces that it’s time for presents. It’s an unexpected and practically unwanted development. Regina is about to demur politely until she realizes that the gifts Red and Jacob are carrying in from another room are wrapped in conspicuously pastel colors. _Baby gifts_ , she understands, and closes her mouth.

She’s never had a baby shower before, even an informal one. In Storybrooke, when she adopted Henry, no one gave her anything. It didn’t hurt her feelings then, and she ordered everything she needed over the internet and had it all shipped to her home after Henry’s arrival. But this is so much different; she has barely prepared for the baby’s arrival, other than to have a crib made and assembled in the corner of the bedroom. She has baby blankets too, but that’s about all. None of the modern accoutrements of Storybrooke are necessary here; diaper genies and breast milk pumps and car seats never even occurred to her.

Not that she receives any of those items tonight. One by one she unwraps her gifts, as Emma looks on with bright eyes. First there is a silver rattle from James, engraved with two swans hovering above the fire from her own crest. Next are two dozen onesies and a large box of soft cloth diapers (in four sizes) from Granny. “You’ll need more, but these will get you started,” she says as the other guests laugh.

Snow gives her handmade baby clothes: tiny suede trousers and shirts of the finest cotton, knitted sweaters for winter, plus two long sheepskin jackets that Regina loves instantly. There are dresses too (assuming their girl prediction is correct), and footie pajamas so small that everyone coos over them, including Regina. It’s an enormous collection of things, and Regina feels shy when she thanks Snow.

“It’s for both you and Emma, really,” Snow reminds her, and Regina nods.

“Of course.”

Either way, their baby will be well dressed.

Red and Jacob clap when she unwraps their baby booties and hats, all of which go perfectly with the new clothes—clearly these gifts were planned well in advance. The idea makes Regina’s heart thump wildly in her chest, that these people would think kindly of her, not knowing what the future holds.

Nova and Grumpy (who is only slightly more cheerful than usual) present a lifelike rocking horse, intricately painted and coiffed with what looks like real horse hair as a mane and a tail. When Regina looks closely and sees the dark diamond shape above the horse’s snout, she realizes it’s a replica of her own stallion, Louis. “Oh,” she says quietly, trailing a finger down the design. “It’s lovely. Truly.”

From Abigail and Frederick, she receives a cradle suited for travel, as well as a leather pack to carry the baby either on foot or horseback. “I suppose you can use it for riding too,” Abigail adds as she displays how the buckles expand the harness as the baby grows. “But for heaven’s sake, be careful. I know you can’t bear to be off your horse for very long.”

Regina doesn’t mention that she’s not riding anymore. Without the ability to cushion a fall with magic, it’s too big a risk. Instead she visits Louis now and then, taking him into the pen for training. It’s not the same, but it’s something. She thanks Abigail and Frederick profusely, assuring them that she’ll use the pack wisely.

And finally, from Henry, there is a mobile of carved wooden fawns that spin slowly as a tinkling song plays. “It’s made like a music box. Grumpy helped me,” he explains, as Grumpy harrumphs from across the table. Regina touches each of the small, smooth pieces, wondering at how long it must have taken him to do each of them.

“It’s perfect,” she tells Henry, pulling him into a hug, loving how his thin arms wrap so easily around her neck. “Thank you, dearest.”

“Welcome,” he murmurs.

“Will you tell me how you made it tonight before you go to bed?” she asks, softly so no one else hears.

He nods against her neck before pulling away and patting her shoulders. She sees the emotion on his face as he returns to his seat, and is startled when she notices the intensity with which Snow watches him too. But although she is curious, she lets it go when Emma places a hand on her back. Emma motions in the direction of the doorway, where Granny is carrying in the cake. “Get ready to make your wish,” she says. “You’ll get your present from me later,” Emma adds with a wink.

Regina enjoys the little spike of adrenaline the words cause within her. But for now, she considers her wish as Granny places a large cake in the center of the table with dozens of candles spread across it. “Didn’t know how old you were so I just set the whole thing on fire,” Granny says, looking quite satisfied with her joke.

There’s scattered laughter, especially from Emma, who slaps her leg in mirth.

“Very funny,” Regina says smoothly, still flattered from all the attention. The cake smells deliciously of apples and cinnamon and caramel. She inhales and shuts her eyes, sending out something more like a prayer than a wish: _Please let us, all of us, survive. Please let my family live_. She takes one last inhale and blows out the candles. It’s difficult, considering her diminished lung capacity, but she strains for the last corner of the cake and manages to get it done in one breath.

There’s an explosion of applause as Regina gasps, the baby immediately deciding to kick her in the bladder. She chuckles as she cuts the first slice, turning over the duty to Granny right after that. The cake is delightful, and everyone seems to enjoy it even though Snow White purses her lips when she takes her first bite. Despite her better nature, Regina enjoys that.

When the cake is half-demolished, Regina feels a familiar wave of fatigue. But the conversation around the table continues to thrive, and she is hesitant to break up the party. Never before has a group of people willingly (for the most part) come together to celebrate her birth. The pile of baby gifts on the nearby table touches her heart far more deeply than she could have anticipated. And the smiles she’s received from the guests, her friends, offer a welcome sense of contentment.

A little groan next to her brings her out of her thoughts; Henry has a hand on his stomach, and half a piece of cake left on his plate. It’s his second, to which Regina raised an eyebrow but allowed because it’s a special occasion. “Mom, I feel kind of full,” he mumbles.

Instead of following her first instinct toward admonishment, she bites it back and places an arm around his shoulder. “Ready to go then? I can make a drink to make you feel better.” They don’t have the modern conveniences from the drug store anymore, but a little baking soda will do just as well.

“Okay.”

“Say goodnight to everyone,” she encourages, and watches as he goes around the table to give hugs and good nights.

Emma leans over to ask, “You heading out too?”

“Yes. I’ll tuck him in.”

“I’ll see everyone out.”

“Thank you, dear,” Regina says, and kisses Emma lightly on the mouth. Regina stands, releasing a little breath of effort as she makes it to her feet. Everything is sore tonight, especially her feet. Perhaps instead of sex Regina will ask for a foot rub.

Everyone else stands as well, wishing Regina well and offering hugs and a few kisses. Red holds her close for a long time. “You’ll be okay, Regina,” she says. Although she doesn’t ask permission, Regina doesn’t mind when she touches her belly. Few others would get away with such familiarity. “Good night, little one. See you soon,” Red says as she leans down close to the baby. Pregnancy has obviously made her seem more approachable, and she blames the hormones over the fact that she enjoys it, just a little.

She says her goodbyes, and while she exchanges a few words with James, Snow merely nods. Regina does the same as Henry takes her hand and leans against her side. “Come along, dear. Good night, everyone, and thank you, for everything. I’m--” her voice catches--”I’m very grateful.”

There’s a broad murmur across the room as she departs, inhaling as deeply as she can as she walks with Henry across the castle.

\---

  



	6. Chapter 6

Title: The Sun Inside

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.

Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.

Length: 41K words, give or take

Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!

  


\---

By the time Henry settles under his duvet, he’s feeling better, as is Regina. The weight of the sentiment at the party was getting to her. She prefers the quiet coolness of Henry’s room, and the warmth of her son’s body next to hers. She strokes his hair as he tells her about his gift.

“The mobile was my idea. I was talking to James and he said that he had one made for Emma before she was born, with unicorns on it. I wanted to do that, but unicorn horns are really hard so I went with deer instead.”

“Very smart,” Regina assures him.

“I carved them all in school, like James showed me, and my teacher helped. I never cut myself once!” he crows proudly. “And then I got the ribbons to hang them up, and I went to the blacksmith and had him help with the top part, and he made the crank so it will spin. And then Grumpy knows a dwarf who makes instruments, so he made the music box.”

“What does it play?”

Henry swallows, shifting in the bed. “’I Will’. I thought she would like it too.”

Memories flood Regina then of holding Henry, so small and sweet, singing to him that very song as he fell asleep. Most modern American music didn’t move her, but somehow the Beatles’ tune had gotten under her skin. “That’s a good choice, Henry,” she says, proud of the evenness of her tone. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He closes his eyes and burrows into the pillow.

“You’re so special to me, Henry,” Regina says, the words flowing easily, as if she’d meant to say them all along. “Emma might be the savior from your stories, but you made it possible for me to find happiness again. Just you.”

He opens his eyes and blinks owlishly at her. “Really?”

“Really.”

He moves a little closer to her then, tucking his head beneath her chin. For some reason her mother inconveniently floats into her mind. She wishes that as a young girl she had been able to do just what Henry is doing now, just once. Maybe things would be different if she had. Maybe her mother would have loved her then, as she loves Henry and the child who is growing inside her.

Regina waits until his breathing evens to slip out of his bed. As she gazes upon him from the doorway, she tries to imagine what he could possibly do to her that would be so unforgivable that one day she would destroy his entire life.

She can’t think of a single thing.

Slowly she makes her way the short distance to her room, leaning against the heavy door. It’s almost unimaginable that Cora could wipe out everything she’s built here in the past year. In the back of her mind, she hopes that all of this anxiety and preparation is for nothing, that her mother is simply a bad memory who will never invade her life again. Then again, the prophecy is clear. Cora will come. At least when it happens Regina won’t be alone.

When she pushes the door open, Emma is there reclining on the bed, a smile on her face. Right away, Regina’s heart lightens.

“How’s Henry?”

“Better,” Regina answers. “Too much cake.”

“Me too,” Emma says, patting her stomach. It looks as flat and muscular as it always does beneath her sleeveless cotton undershirt. It’s not quite the same as a tank top (she has only two left from the old world) but it’s sexy nevertheless. “Come here. I want to give you your present,” she leers.

Regina groans, a hand pressing the base of her spine. “Don’t know if I’m up for that tonight--”

“No,” Emma interrupts, chuckling. “It’s an actual present.” She pulls something out from under her pillow on the bed. Regina approaches and takes the gift, wrapped in fabric and tied with a narrow leather bow. She recognizes the tie as the one Emma uses in her hair to sleep. After she loosens it, she hands the leather back with a wry grin.

“Thanks,” Emma says, pulling her hair back with it.

Within the fabric, she finds a simple knitted blanket threaded with a purple ribbon. There’s a strip of material sewn on one corner, and Regina’s smile fades. She swallows hard against the lump in her throat.

“I made it myself,” Emma explains. She looks curiously shy.

Regina touches the blanket, the yarn soft between her fingers and thumb. “When?”

Shrugging, she answers, “I spent a few afternoons with Granny learning. She isn’t the most patient teacher, but at least she didn’t give up on me.” Emma reaches out to brush her fingers across the pattern. “This is my third try, and I figure it’s the best I can do at the moment. It won’t be so long now, right?” She leans closer to Regina and rests a hand on her belly.

Regina can barely find her voice. “When she’s born, you’ll add the name?”

“You got it,” Emma replies. “I have a few ideas about what to call her—I’m afraid to jinx it. But we can talk about it when it’s almost time.”

“All right,” Regina exhales, finally letting tears spill down her cheeks. It’s not her fault, she tells herself. She’s just not used to so many good things happening all at once.

“Hey, what’s this?” Emma asks, kissing her cheek, rubbing it against her own. “I hope I didn’t upset you.”

Regina swallows and shakes her head. “No. It’s just--” she swallows again, and says, “It’s like your blanket.” She can’t talk about all the parallels it brings to mind, of Emma’s abandonment in the other world, and of her own madness and rage at the time of her birth.

“Yeah,” Emma says. “That’s why I made it. So she’d have a family heirloom to go along with mine.”

The words _family heirloom_ bring up a sob from deep within Regina’s chest. As much as she can’t imagine ever being apart from Emma, the implication of a future, perhaps even a long one, is too much to bear. She has no heirlooms from her mother aside from the scars on her heart. After she put her own father in the ground she kept only a single thing when he died: his wedding ring. And the ring from the only other soul she wanted to keep close—her sweet Daniel—is gone forever. This blanket is supposed to mark a beginning, and at this moment it is so precious to her she wants to curl up and disappear, to become invisible, to do anything to escape her mother’s wrath.

Emma pulls her closer as she cries, the blanket clutched in one hand. She gives up trying to explain and simply lets go, weeping on Emma’s shoulder. It’s freeing to get it out after keeping everything pressed down inside, trapped in a place that can no longer contain it.

A few minutes pass before the desperate feeling eases into something close to melancholy. She wants so much to be happy; she reaches for it, but there’s someone in her way. The image of her mother’s face only hardens her resolve. She must win, one last time. There is no other way. Even defenseless and without magic, she _must win_.

\---

Once she gets down to two more weeks, it gets even harder for Regina to roll out of bed in the mornings. That said, she rarely lingers under the cool sheets because she has to use the bathroom constantly. She knew it would be like this in her head, but the experience of it is less pleasant than anticipated. Her ankles swell in the late summer warmth, and her hands are so puffy she has to remove the emerald ring she’s worn for decades. She could barely get the thing off, and had to slather on butter from the kitchens to slide it free. The cook helps; with four children of her own, she understands Regina’s condition. She also sends Regina away with a bowl of diced cantaloupe (apparently she should be having this daily) and advises her to return for a special concoction when she’s ready to deliver. 

Regina is briefly tempted to ask for this specialty now, but decides against it.

She takes her daily walk around the gardens, sweating but enjoying the sunshine. The crops still thrive, with the nectarine and peach trees fairly bursting with fruit. She pockets a few of them in her oversized smock before noticing that the rows of garlic and fennel need weeding. No one is around, so she carefully gets to her hands and knees and goes to work.

She’s not sure how long she’s there when she hears an eruption of noise; the garden is separated from the village roads only by a high stone wall. People are shouting. Someone screams—a woman. “Let me go!” she hears, and while the voice is familiar she can’t place it. Another roar, louder this time, slams into her and she struggles to her feet. Her hands are filthy and her smock is covered in dirt, but she has to find out what’s happening.

As quickly as she can, she hurries to the heavy door that leads off the grounds, and when the guard hesitates to open it for her, she commands, “Do it, soldier, or you’ll regret it.” Despite her girth and remarkably non-threatening attire, he blanches and pushes it open.

She stumbles into what is practically a mob scene, realizing almost too late that this was probably a mistake. “Majesty,” someone says at her side, taking her arm and trying to lead her away.

Regina yanks her arm free. “No, I won’t leave until I know what’s happening! What is it?”

The soldier, one she recognizes from the war room, glances over her shoulder anxiously. “It’s nothing, just a little skirmish--”

At once Regina turns from him, slithering away easily. She may be pregnant, but she maneuvers through the crowd, arms protecting her belly from elbows and hands and swords. She shoves hard, nose wrinkling at the scent of humanity all around her. She’s been spoiled in the castle but here, in the public realm, she is reminded that the rest of the world doesn’t smell of lavender and cinnamon and rosemary. When she breaks through the crowd, she spots a woman being dragged by three soldiers across the street toward the jails. The woman is an animal in their grasp, screaming as they try desperately to control her movements.

“What is the meaning of this?” Regina shouts, and dozens of those around her realize who she is, and fall silent. “Why do you imprison this woman? What crime has she committed against the realm?”

One of the men hauling the prisoner spots her and pauses, his mouth dropping open in shock. He turns away and continues forward, but the woman turns her head and Regina gasps. Regina knows her face very well. “Belle! No—you must release her!” She rushes toward them, only to stop in her tracks when Belle laughs, her mouth twisting in a cruel scowl.

Finally the soldiers pause in their journey, and Belle lunges in her direction. “See how you like it, Regina. See how you like it when your mother kills the one you love, just as you killed the one I love. I hope you suffer for as long as I have, alone for decades, and losing love just as you find it again. See how you like it!” she shouts, rage exploding from her whole body. “I hope you rot in hell!”

“What?” Regina breathes, frozen in fear. The soldiers turn and depart as Belle screams, still fighting against her captors. Another man, dressed in his leathers and helmet, approaches and bows, the epaulets at his shoulder identifying him as a captain in the army.

“Your Majesty, please, come with me,” he says, insistent.

“No,” Regina says firmly. She glances behind her at those who surround them, their eyes eager for the truth as well. “I will keep no secrets from our people. Explain,” she demands, even though she has a desperate surety that she knows exactly what he’s going to say.

“Majesty--”

“Tell me!” Regina shouts, one hand at her stomach, unconsciously soothing her suddenly active child.

The man peers down at her belly, frowning. “Belle slipped through the perimeter this morning. Two guards on patrol discovered her as she returned. She carried--” he swallows once before continuing— “she carried a hat in her hands.”

Saliva fills Regina’s mouth; she is stricken with nausea and swallows back bile. There is a collective moan from the crowd behind her. Everyone knows what this means: Belle has alerted the Queen of Hearts.

The soldier continues, “She explained that she had magic left behind by Rumpelstiltskin, which she used to open the portal. She went through the looking glass and revealed your secret, Majesty. The Queen of Hearts knows you are with child.”

Biting back tears of frustration and anguish, Regina simply nods. It was bound to happen; she just hoped she had a few more days of freedom.

“She boasted of how she did it, Majesty. I’m sorry. We did everything we could—my man at the north wall believes she made herself invisible. There was no way to know that she escaped--”

Regina waves a hand, dismissing his explanation. “Tell me your name?”

“Captain Alfred Merac, Your Majesty. At your service.”

“This is not your fault, Captain Merac. But the hat—” Regina realizes that if Belle had the hat, then Jefferson could be in grave danger. “We must go to Jefferson’s cottage. The Hatter. She must have taken it from him. I’m certain he would not have handed it over willingly. Will you escort me there?”

Merac hesitates, as his eyes again drift toward the baby. “Majesty--”

“Regina,” she replies, “Call me Regina. We should go. Now. Bring at least three of your men and a stretcher, just in case.”

After a few moments, Merac nods in agreement. “Very well.”

He assembles a small crew who carries the necessary supplies, and Regina sets off down the road, the eyes of dozens of villagers upon her. She keeps her expression confident and strong, even while she feels like screaming in terror. She wants to run to Emma, to beg James and Snow to rally the troops, but she can’t. Not yet, anyhow. Jefferson needs her.

Fortunately his cottage is not far. The home he shares with Grace is neither the hovel from the old world nor the mansion of Storybrooke, but is somewhere in between. When a soldier checks the door, it swings open, and Regina pushes inside first. In the far corner, Grace is tied to a chair and gagged. Her eyes bulge when she sees Regina and she struggles so fiercely she nearly topples over. A few yards away lies Jefferson, sprawled unmoving on the wooden floor. A pool of blood surrounds his head, and Regina’s stomach lurches. _Don’t be dead_ , she pleads silently, going to Grace first as the soldiers check Jefferson’s wound.

“Dear, be calm, it will only be a moment,” she says softly as Merac cuts the girl’s bindings with his sword. Grace falls forward into Regina’s waiting arms, her small body shaking with terror.

“My father,” she weeps, “my father is dead. He hasn’t moved since she came.”

“He’s alive,” one of the men says, and Regina’s heart leaps in her chest. “Unconscious but he has a pulse. We’ll take him to the infirmary right away. Doc will have him right as rain, child, don’t you fret.”

For the thousandth time, Regina wishes she had her magic; she could heal him in moments if she did. “Shh, Grace, it’s going to be all right,” she soothes, stroking Grace’s hair. “Don’t be afraid.”

“But Belle,” Grace says, hiccupping through tears, “she said she was going to make sure we would suffer for what happened to the Dark One. She said the Queen of Hearts would kill us all. She said it right after she hit my father with the fire poker.”

Regina just holds the girl more tightly and lets her mind go blank. “Hush, dear. We’ll take good care of you while your father gets well. Come along.” Leaning on Grace’s chair, Regina stands, keeping the girl under her arm. “Did she hurt you?”

Grace shakes her head. “She slapped me, and tied me up before I could get away. But… there is one thing, Your Majesty,” Grace says very softly. She looks up, and the plea in her eyes takes Regina’s breath away. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Neither has my father.”

Regina leans down and kisses Grace on the forehead, blocking out the sounds of the soldiers as they roll Jefferson onto the stretcher. “Your father will be fine,” she murmurs. Reaching into her smock, she finds a ripe nectarine and hands it to the girl. “Will this do for now?”

Grace nods and bites into the fruit, the juice running down her chin as she devours it.

\---

Regina paces outside the infirmary alone. Grace has been taken to the castle, and the news of Belle’s betrayal has been delivered to the King and Queen. Emma is likely with them in the war room, but Regina hasn’t seen her since early this morning. She wishes they were together, but it’s important for Emma to continue with what preparations they can make, since Cora may come at any moment.

That said, Regina doesn’t expect her for at least a few days. It would be too easy to pounce immediately—Cora will want to draw out the anticipation. Just as Regina would, in her shoes.

The door opens, and Doc emerges. He looks unhappy. “He’s alive. At least I can say that.”

“Is he awake?”

Doc shakes his head. “In and out of consciousness. It’s impossible to anticipate anything with a head injury this serious, especially with our limitations here--”

“I need to see him,” Regina says, hands clutched together.

“Majesty, it’s not wise to enter the infirmary in your state. We have a number of sick men and women down the halls, and anything could--”

“I’ll wear a mask,” Regina begs, “Gloves, a gown, whatever you want. But I must see him. Please.”

There’s a deep sigh from the dwarf, who gives up. “Find. I’ll get you suited up.” He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll have to get the largest size we have available.”

Regina rolls her eyes.

Shortly after that, Regina stands at Jefferson’s bedside, swathed in cotton. Her eyes are about the only thing uncovered. She takes Jefferson’s hand, closing her eyes and saying a prayer. Fingers close around hers, startling her into squeezing more tightly. “Jefferson, dear, I’m here. It’s Regina.”

When his eyes open halfway, she can only see the whites. It’s a disturbing image. “Grace,” he whispers, his voice rough.

“She’s fine,” Regina tells him, leaning close but speaking quietly. “She’s at the castle. She’s under our protection.” He smacks his lips, and Regina takes the cup of water at the bedside and asks, “Are you thirsty?”

The sound he makes is something that seems like a yes, so she dribbles a few drops onto his lips as they open. Soon he’s swallowing properly, draining the whole cup. He sighs in relief before saying, “She had magic.”

“I know, dear. It’s not your fault. I just want you to get well. The baby’s coming soon, you know. You want to meet her, don’t you?”

His eyes open, and for the first time, he is able to focus on her. He blinks drowsily. “Let me see your face,” he murmurs.

Regina pulls the mask down, smiling at him. To her surprise a tear falls on his cheek, and she wipes it away.

“Protect her,” he says with a sigh, and Regina isn’t sure who he means—his own daughter, or the child who is coming. Or perhaps he means Emma. “You have to.”

She nods, holding his too-warm jaw in her palm. “I will.”

Regina departs when Jefferson drifts back into unconsciousness. To her surprise, Merac waits for her outside the infirmary. “Captain,” she says, “Don’t you have something better to do?”

His smile is grim. “In fact I do not, Majesty. Shall we return to the castle?”

Regina purses her lips at him before pulling the gown and gloves off and leaving them in the bin to be laundered. “Fine.”

They trounce back to the castle, as Merac holds an umbrella overhead against a light rain. The humidity is terrible, and Regina frowns against the sweat at her temples and the back of her neck. “God, I’m done being pregnant,” she mumbles.

Merac chuckles. “My wife is five months along. I dread the coming weeks.”

She glances at him. “Any other children?”

“No,” he replies, his chest puffing out. “This will be my first.”

Gazing upon the weathered skin at the corners of his eyes and mouth, she’s surprised. He is no young buck. But still he is handsome and rugged, with an expression full of humor.

“My wife is younger than I,” he explains. “I waited many years to find her. I had lost someone, my childhood sweetheart, from a fever long ago. I could not love again until Dierdre.”

“I understand,” Regina replies, thoughtful.

“I expect you do.”

The rest of the walk is silent, and she feels a kinship with this man. She likes him. The last thought she has about him that day is that she hopes her mother doesn’t kill him when she arrives.

\---

When Regina makes her way to the war room, the place is bustling with activity. Emma rushes toward her, pulling her into her arms and nearly crying with relief. “You’re all right,” she breathes. “I was worried.”

“I saw Jefferson,” Regina replies.

“He’s alive?”

“Yes.” _For now_ , she thinks.

Emma’s mind has already moved on. “We’re on high alert. All the troops are surrounding the castle, as planned. And we’ve got a large number guarding the seaside as well, in case you’re right about a water approach.”

Regina glances at Snow, who nods in confirmation. She looks as determined as ever.

“Good.” Regina shakes her hand out, aching to feel a spark leave her fingers. “I--” Glancing around, Regina understands she has no place here. She will have to be ferreted away, hidden from view until she has the baby, and probably after. “I should go.”

“No,” Emma replies, “Stay. I want you here. But you should sit. Come on.”

Regina allows herself to be led across the room to a seat cushioned with a pillow. Red approaches right away and kneels at her feet. “You okay?” she asks.

Something about the kindness in her eyes puts Regina on edge. “Of course,” she snaps. “I’m not an invalid, for heaven’s sake.”

Red rears back, hurt. She gives Regina a sad smile and pats her knee. “That’s good. Grace is with Henry and Jake.”

Regina nods, uncomfortable. She wants Red to leave her alone. In fact, she wants everyone to leave her alone. She’d like to disappear. Everything about to happen is her fault, and her fault alone. Without her presence, Cora would stay in Wonderland and their happy endings could go on indefinitely.

“Are you thirsty?” Red asks, and Regina cracks.

“No, I’m not thirsty, foolish girl. I’m not hungry and I don’t need help. I don’t need anything and I’d prefer it if you’d leave me the hell alone!”

“Regina!” Emma reprimands, eyes flashing. She stomps toward her, but Regina struggles out of the chair, irritated by her own bulk.

Regina leans close to Emma’s face. “I’m leaving.”

“You should apologize to Red,” Emma breathes, gritting her teeth.

Regina is tempted to tell her _to fuck the hell off_ , but instead she throws a half-hearted “Sorry,” over her shoulder as she strides out. She attempts to slam the door behind her, but she has so little strength that it barely swings closed. Determined, she throws a hand up to will it shut, trying one last desperate time to call on magic. The door does not move, and the tears come.

She returns to her quarters, passing Henry’s room. Through the cracked door she hears the voices of Jacob and Grace and Henry. She hurries by, unable to look at any of them. Once in the bedroom, she collapses, paralyzed by fear and anguish.

Regina weeps quietly for a while, exhausting herself. Lying on her side is the only position that’s even remotely comfortable now, and after a minute of tossing and turning she realizes there’s something in her pocket. It’s a peach from the tree she tended to only this morning. Already that peaceful time feels like days ago. As much as she doesn’t want to eat, it’s been hours since she’s had anything, which means it’s been hours since the baby’s had anything either. Sighing, she bites the fruit and eats it as quickly as possible, barely tasting it. When she’s done, she pulls the other pillow close, finding a few strands of blonde hair on its surface. She buries her face into it and closes her eyes.

Someone strokes her hair, and Regina sighs as she wakes. Only then does she remember what’s happened, and she wishes she could forget. Glancing up, she finds Emma holding a glass of water and a bowl of something. Steam rises from it, and the scent of cinnamon drifts down. “Oatmeal?” Regina asks.

“Yep. You need to eat.”

As Regina struggles to sit up against the headboard, Emma takes a seat next to her at the edge of the bed. They’re silent as Regina begins to eat, and the homey taste is a comfort.

“It’s not like you to run from a fight,” Emma finally says, putting a hand on Regina’s knee.

Regina can barely meet her eyes. She is ashamed. “I know.”

“Later you can apologize to Red. She and Jake are staying here, and they’re going to look after Grace till Jefferson is better.”

Although sometimes it irks her to have to apologize for anything ( _why should an evil queen ever admit wrongdoing?_ ) but she simply says, “I will. She was--” her voice catches--”only trying to help.”

“Yeah.” Emma inhales, holds it, and releases the breath in a huge gust. “You’re not alone, Regina. And no one blames you. Nothing you did brought this on.”

Thinking about exactly what brought this on, Regina chuckles. “That’s true. You’re the one who got me pregnant.”

Emma grins, the proud little smirk she gets sometimes curling her mouth. “That’s true. So technically it’s on my head. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

When the bowl is nearly empty, Regina lets the words come. “I’m weak, Emma, just like my mother always said I was. I have nothing to offer anyone here. I have no power, I can’t fight—hell, I can barely slam a door.” She looks down, her eyes unfocused. “I’m nothing.”

Emma takes the bowl and sets it on the bedside table. She pulls Regina closer, pressing her soft mouth to Regina’s damp cheek, her ear, her temple. “You’re the whole world to me, Regina. My true love. The reason I am who I am. And I want to remind you of something else,” she continues, putting a hand to Regina’s chin so they’re looking at each other head on. “The prophecy says we’ll win. That her rule will fall when the baby comes. Which means you have one job to do: deliver a baby. That’s it. After that, we’ll see.”

“My mother will come before--”

“You don’t know when she’ll come. She isn’t here yet, which means we still have time. And Doc said any day now, right?”

With a nod, Regina leans back. “He thinks she’s close to seven pounds, but there’s no way to be sure.”

“So maybe we try and you know, move things along. Know what I mean?” Emma asks, eyebrows waggling.

Regina frowns. “Do you want me to drink that thing the cook wants to give me?”

Emma pokes her in the arm. “No, Your Majesty,” she replies. “Didn’t you know having sex is supposed to induce labor?”

Regina gapes at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am one hundred percent serious.”

Looking down at her enormous belly, she feels as unsexy as she has ever felt in her life. “I’m not sure that would work out.” It’s been a few weeks since they’ve done anything, mainly because Regina is often so tired at the end of the day as they crawl into bed that she is asleep in seconds.

“I could give it a shot?” Emma tries, surprisingly interested. “I miss you. And you’re beautiful. Even when you’re kind of a bitch.”

With a smiling shrug, Regina replies, “All right, I suppose. But shouldn’t you be off doing something for the--”

Emma stops her with a kiss.

It turns out far better than Regina could have anticipated. They make out for a few minutes, and when Regina gets her hand into Emma’s trousers, it’s clear that arousal isn’t going to be a problem for either of them. Emma climbs behind her, turning on her side and spooning her. It’s very warm in the bed, so when Emma urges her to remove the smock and her shirt, it’s a relief. Her cotton leggings are pushed down just far enough for Emma to feel how wet she is, and she laughs low in Regina’s ear.

“You’re a bullshit artist, Majesty. _I’m not sure that would work out_ my ass.”

“Quiet, Princess, and get to work. Now that you’ve got me all keyed up you’d better follow through.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Emma replies, “and don’t call me Princess.”

Emma doesn’t tease or waste time. She slips two fingers inside, staying shallow and pressing up, while Regina’s hand falls between her own legs. The rhythm is slow to start, and it feels incredible, especially with Emma’s mouth open and working at the back of her neck. She nibbles her ears, her shoulders, her jaw, until Regina decides she doesn’t want to wait anymore and speeds up the pace. Their groans complement each other in the quiet room, and when Regina comes, she forgets all the fear and concentrates on how good it feels to be loved.

Behind her she feels Emma pull her hand out and work it between their bodies, giving herself an orgasm as she bites Regina’s shoulder so hard there will surely be a mark. She shivers furiously before wrapping both arms around Regina, holding her possessively. Their legs tangle in a sweaty mess.

A few seconds later, Emma is startled by the poking of what Regina thinks is a foot. “Oh my god, she’s awake?” Emma asks.

Regina wriggles her bottom back a couple of inches to get closer. The afterglow is marvelous. “Mm hmm. The whole time.”

“Oh my god,” Emma repeats, sounding mortified. “Why does it feel like I just had sex in front of my kid?”

“Don’t worry, dear. The endorphins are good for both of us, I assume. But I don’t think I’m in labor.”

Emma settles, stroking the place where the foot juts out. “Not much room left in there, I take it.”

“No.”

The stroking lulls Regina into another doze, but still she hears Emma’s soft words. “Any day now.”

\---

 


	7. Chapter 7

Title: The Sun Inside

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.

Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.

Length: 41K words, give or take

Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!

  


\---

Four days pass. Cora does not come. Neither does the baby.

Regina makes love to Emma every night, and sometimes in the mornings, but she doesn’t feel more than cramps in the late afternoon on the fourth day. Doc says that this is normal, which is small comfort. The cook gives her two things every morning: beet juice and raspberry leaf tea. Neither is particularly pleasant, but she dutifully downs them before her typical visit to the war room.

Otherwise, she waits.

On day five she spends time with Henry and Grace, and takes them both to see Jefferson in a mostly cleared-out infirmary. Many of the sick have been relocated outside the village for safety, and anyone who is not involved in the fight has left as well. It makes for a spooky trip beyond the castle walls, but her new friend Merac accompanies her, and she appreciates the escort. She asks about his wife, who has left with her family until the war is over. He pretends that he doesn’t mind her absence but she knows he is worried and lonely.

The weather is cooler than normal, so Regina makes sure Henry’s coat is buttoned before they depart the infirmary. As they return to the castle, she suggests to Merac, “Perhaps you should join Dierdre.”

“A Captain does not abandon his post in times of trouble, Regina,” he replies, addressing her by name as she’d asked.

“But this is a special circumstance. Your child should not be fatherless simply because of a political skirmish brought on by--”

“My first loyalty is to the realm, Majesty. And to you, and the Princess, the King, Queen, and all members of the Royal Family.” His voice is resolute. “Dierdre knows this, but she also believes that we will win. I know you may be shocked, Majesty, but many of the villagers look to you as their best protection from the Queen of Hearts.”

Regina fights against the thud of her heart at his words. “But they know that I have no magic, don’t they?”

“Yes.” He does not elaborate.

“That’s ridiculous. I’ve no way to save anyone--”

“It is no matter,” he interrupts. “Pardon, Majesty. Your turn from evil to good has nevertheless convinced them otherwise. Perhaps you should take that as a compliment and believe in yourself. For once,” he adds, almost too softly for her to hear.

Regina does not reply, but instead reaches down to take Henry’s hand. His cheerful smile gives her courage, at least for the moment.

When they reach the castle doors, she asks Merac one more question. “Where will you be stationed when they come?”

“At the rear of the castle. I will lead the charge in the event of water attack.”

The warm feeling in her belly flees. “You should ask to be moved to the edge of the forest--”

“No, Regina. I belong there. I requested the assignment.”

Regina gazes into his eyes. He must have heard through the regiment’s grapevine that she believes this is where Cora will try to infiltrate the castle. “Why?” she asks.

He doesn’t smile, but his expression is soft. “Because I spent almost 30 years in Storybrooke, Maine, falling in love with the woman who would become my wife.” When he rests a hand on her shoulder, she is breathless. “Your curse was meant to steal our happy endings, but that didn’t happen. Every moment I spent in the other world was a hopeful anticipation. When the curse broke and we returned here, I found true happiness and a second chance at love. I will be forever grateful.”

Regina’s eyes are wet when she tells him, “Be careful, then. We don’t have much time left.”

“Indeed.”

\---

When Regina has seven days to go, she is ready to burst from anxiety. Emma is much the same, but still they take the time to connect with one another after the sun sets. Regina sees Henry to bed early, even though he complains about it, and Emma lures her to their room with the promise of a foot rub and an orgasm.

She takes the orgasm first and returns it in kind, and although Emma is tired, she provides the promised massage. She works her thumbs at the center of Regina’s instep so hard that she yelps in pain, so Emma lightens the touch to the perfect pressure.

“That’s nice,” Regina sighs.

Emma chuckles low and tosses her hair over her shoulder. Regina can’t help but stare, because Emma has redressed in one of her old white tanks and a pair of red underwear. She recalls seeing Emma in that very ensemble a lifetime ago, when they were hateful rivals who had no idea where fate would lead them. Of course then the shirt was pristine; the one she wears now is ratty and a little yellow under the arms, but Emma can’t bear to give it up. Regina would never ask her to either, because it’s one of the few connections she has to their life _before_.

“Still no change?” Emma asks.

Regina’s back has ached all day, but that doesn’t count as a contraction, so she replies, “Nope.”

“Oh well. Can’t say we’re not trying to get something to happen,” she quips with a gentle smirk.

“True.” She leans back and groans when Emma rubs the ball of her left foot, which feels particularly swollen. “How is everyone else faring?” Regina has barely seen anyone except Emma, Henry, Grace, Red and Jacob for the last week.

“They’re exhausted, unfortunately. The problem with waiting is that we weren’t prepared to do it—the first three days no one slept a wink. Now the soldiers are resting in shifts but they’re still catching up.”

“Mm, I see,” Regina says, and doesn’t add that this sounds absolutely like it’s part of Cora’s plan. She’s sure Emma already realizes it. At least they’re not out of food; they’ll be fine for weeks with the castle’s stores, especially since the population has been cut in half since Belle’s treachery. “I hope they’re taking care of themselves.”

“Me too,” Emma replies, working Regina’s toes between her fingers.

“God, that’s good,” Regina says, arching despite the sharp twinge at the base of her spine. “Maybe you could do my back for a minute?”

“Okay.”

Emma has been awfully agreeable to anything Regina asks lately. They’ve been sniping at each other far less than usual. Of course, this may be from only spending their evenings together. After she leaves the war room, Regina takes hours every day to walk the orchard while Emma stays with her parents and the regiment. Doc insists on daily walks at this stage, and Regina is very good at following directions when it suits her. She doesn’t stray far from the guarded doors, but at least the fresh air is welcome.

Emma crawls behind Regina and has her lean back with just enough room for her fingers to work their magic. Soft hands dip underneath the oversized night shirt she wears. “How’s this?” Emma asks as she presses against Regina’s sacrum.

Oddly, it hurts more than it feels good, so Regina wiggles a bit. “A little higher?”

Emma moves her hands up a few inches, and that seems to do the trick. “Better,” Regina exhales. She rests a hand on Emma’s foot and tries to suck in every moment of calm she has left. But there is still anxiety trilling in her mind like a high-pitched tone that never stops. “I love you, Emma,” she says firmly, because the impulse strikes her, and it’s imperative that she follow it.

Emma’s hands go still, and she wraps Regina in her arms. It makes her feel as safe as she can be, considering their situation. “I know. I love you.”

Once Emma is asleep, Regina lies awake next to her, tempted to trace her finger down a perfect nose, the sculpted cheek bones. _If this is going to be my ending_ , Regina thinks, _at least it’s a happy one_.

Later that night, Regina dreams again of Maleficent, still as lovely and wry as she ever was. They are seated in the massive sitting room of the Forbidden Fortress, drinking cider. Maleficent’s little unicorn rests at her feet, and she strokes its head. “You’re no longer in need of a pet, I see,” Maleficent says, eyeing Regina’s belly.

Regina glances down, surprised to see herself pregnant. It’s as though she forgot, but there’s a strange tugging in her body that disturbs her. “I suppose.”

“Not lonely anymore either,” Maleficent adds with an approving nod. “Solitude never suited you, dear, no matter how much you embraced it.”

Regina shifts in the chair, unable to get comfortable. “That’s true, although I didn’t realize it until recently.”

“Well, some realizations don’t come to us until it’s almost too late.” Eyes darting over Regina’s shoulder, she motions with her head. “You know what I mean, don’t you Regina?”

Regina turns, only to see her mother standing there all in black. The shadow behind her is enormous. Terror chokes her.

“Come, dear Regina,” Maleficent urges, “it’s nearly time. You must remember.”

“Remember what?” Regina shouts, unable to tear her gaze from the malevolent smile on her mother’s face. “What should I remember?”

“You just need to reach inside and find the thread. You’ll know when the time is right.”

“The thread?” A forgotten memory tickle’s Regina’s thoughts, like an itch that can’t be scratched. “I don’t know what you mean--”

“You will,” Maleficent tells her. She sips her cider and relaxes into her chair. “Now wake up, dear. The baby’s coming.”

Regina gasps herself awake into the dim light of dawn, and the pain rips her in half. She can barely draw breath to call to Emma, so she reaches out and grabs her arm.

Emma’s up in seconds. “What, what is it?”

“Get Doc, now,” she pants.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Emma leaps out of the bed in search of her pants. “Oh my god. Is she coming? Oh my god.”

“Yes,” Regina hisses before letting out a loud groan that lasts as long as what she assumes is a contraction. And when it ends, she understands that she’s lying in a rather large wet spot on the mattress. “Oh, hell.”

“What?” Emma runs back to the bed while yanking on her trousers. She nearly trips over her own feet.

“My water broke. She’s definitely coming.”

“Oh my god,” Emma says for what seems like the hundredth time. Her face is so filled with joy it gives Regina hope that everything’s going to work out.

That’s when Regina hears the first explosion. It’s also when she sees the fiery bloom outside the castle window, right over the water.

All the happiness fades from Emma’s expression, replaced by grim determination. Her giddy clumsiness vanishes as she strides toward the armor she keeps on a table reserved for her gear. She straps it on robotically as Regina rests, sweating already. In less than a minute Emma is protected by chainmail, iron and leather. She slides her father’s sword into its sheath with an ease borne of constant repetition. “Regina, I’m getting Doc, but I’ll be back. I won’t leave your side, not for a second. I swear to you I’ll be here in less than ten minutes. He’s close.”

Regina wants to beg her not to leave at all, ever, because being alone here is too terrifying to fathom. Instead, she nods, piling pillows behind her back. She will be self-sufficient. She’s always been good at that.

Emma rushes to her for a quick kiss and a smile. “Don’t think about anything but having the baby, all right?”

She’s gone in a flash of silver streaking across the room, and Regina is alone. She wonders when the next contraction will come, but she wonders even more what’s happening outside. After inching toward the edge of the mattress, she stands. Walking is supposed to be good during labor, so she makes her way to the window. Outside she sees her very worst nightmare: the lake has been turned to ice. As she expected, her mother has opened a portal just at the edge of the fairies’ wards, and soldiers pour through it. The icy bridge her mother formed will allow dozens and soon hundreds to breach the walls. Their boots must be spiked, because they don’t slide at all as they climb toward the castle’s balconies. When Regina looks down toward the castle, she sees Snow’s army chipping away at the ice, but they don’t make much headway. The fairies are making an effort to destroy the bridge as well, but the magic is too well-cast.

Cora isn’t visible, but Regina knows she is near.

“Gods,” Regina breathes. “Protect them.”

There’s a noise behind her and the door swings open with a bang; it’s Snow, hair flying and face wild. “It’s happening. Where’s Emma?”

“Gone to get Doc,” Regina replies.

Snow is as stunned as Regina is; she appears to lose her breath. “Why?”

“The baby’s coming.”

Their eyes lock, and Regina can imagine what she’s thinking. It’s what they’re both thinking. Instead of giving it voice, Regina starts to pace near the window, keeping an eye on the men attacking her homeland. Back and forth she goes, as Snow stays where she is until the next contraction hits. Regina hunches over and Snow is at her side right away.

“Breathe,” Snow tells her, “in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Regina scowls. “I know that, Snow. I’m trying,” she says through gritted teeth.

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

Regina wants to bite her head off but the pain is so intense that she shuts up and breathes the controlled breaths Doc taught her. It seems to go on forever as Snow stands behind her and presses against her lower back. When it eases, she straightens up and turns her head. Snow appears sympathetic, with soft eyes and a gentle touch.

“This isn’t want I wanted for you, or for Emma,” Snow says quietly. “No matter what’s happened between us, Regina, I swear, I didn’t want it to be like this. Nobody deserves this.”

Regina’s eyes fill as she imagines a peaceful birth, one well-planned and hoped for. One Snow and James didn’t get either. Remorse, rare and deep, courses through her. For the first time, she gives voice to her thoughts. “No,” Regina agrees. “Nobody deserves this.”

Snow looks surprised, frowning as if she doesn’t understand.

“I’m sorry,” Regina admits. “I wouldn’t change it, but I’m sorry.” She would _never_ change it—the decisions she’s made, however poor, gave her Henry and Emma and the new baby. Without them there would be nothing left for her in this life.

Snow watches her closely, perhaps searching for some semblance of falsehood, but she finds none. “I accept your apology,” she says. For a moment, there is a shimmer of the child she once was, adoration shining from her face as she gazes at Regina. But then it’s gone, and things are as they are. At least they have a tentative truce, more honest than the one forged when they came back to the EnchantedForest.

Regina’s pacing begins anew, and as Emma and Doc burst into the room, a contraction comes, one so strong she can barely stay standing. She breathes through it as Doc begins counting the seconds, and by the time she is back on the bed for him to check her over, it’s passed.

“Oh my,” Doc says.

“What?” Emma snaps, breathing heavily.

“Well, you’re not going to have to wait long. You’re fully dilated.”

“What?” Snow and Regina both repeat. “It’s barely been half an hour,” Regina explains.

“When did your water break?” Doc asks, situating his chair at the edge of the bed. “Emma, get me a better light, and bring those towels you’ve prepared. And Snow, we’ll need water, warm if you’ve got it. Anything but hot will be fine.”

“I—I don’t know,” Regina says.

“How were you yesterday?”

Regina stares at the ceiling. “Sore, I suppose. My back ached, especially when--” Regina shuts her mouth in time to realize she has no intention of telling Doc or Snow that she and Emma have been having sex often, ostensibly to bring on labor. “It just hurt in general,” she finishes.

Doc smirks at her, but before Regina can reprimand him, Emma rushes back with the towels and sets them on the side of the bed. “How far apart are the contractions?” he asks.

“Maybe three minutes? Or less?”

“You’re going to want to push soon then,” he says, leaning more closely as Emma throws the curtains open to let more natural light in. The torch she sets up for Doc makes her long for electricity. “Yes. Very soon.”

Emma crawls behind Regina and helps her sit up more easily. It’s nice to have her so close, making her feel safe despite the racket going on outside. People are shouting, and she hears swords clashing as the melee grows more intense. Although Regina wants to get up and see what’s happening, a contraction hits without warning and she thrashes backwards. Emma holds on tight, grabbing at her hands to steady her. “Let’s do the breathing thing, okay?” Emma asks, starting to puff air near her ear in the most annoying fashion.

“Fuck that, I don’t want to do that,” Regina growls, holding her breath instead, because it just seems easier.

“Breathing is better for the baby until you need to push, Regina,” Doc says in a firm voice. “I want to hear it.”

Regina’s got to hand it to him; that’s the only thing that could convince her. So she does it, panting and huffing, making all the right noises as Emma echoes them behind her. When the contraction eases, she realizes the breathing does help, just the smallest degree, but no one else needs to know that.

Doc looks up at Regina sternly and nods once. “With the next one I want you to push,” he says. “You’re ready.”

That makes sense, because Regina is feeling the urge. The pain is terrible, but all the horror stories of first babies taking endless hours if not days to come aren’t universal. “Can I start now?” Regina asks, and Doc nods. She does, and it’s difficult, but it’s also a relief to try.

After straining and feeling like she’s getting nowhere, Doc tells her, “That’s good—take a break.”

Emma kisses the back of her neck. Her face is wet with tears or sweat; Regina isn’t sure which. “She’s coming,” Emma whispers, tangling their fingers together. “Everything’s going to be great. We can do this.”

Regina has a terrible vision then, of herself having just given birth, trying to hold off her mother with James’ sword as Emma and Snow lay dying nearby. It’s the worst thing she can imagine, especially because then a contraction blinds her with pain, this one stronger than any before it.

“Push,” Doc says calmly, completely focused. “Snow, will you come here?”

“Of course.” Snow hurries to his side.

They’re talking to each other, but Regina can’t understand them—her ears seem to stop working, because all she can hear is the rush of blood in her head. She grips Emma’s hands like the lifeline they are and puts every ounce of strength she has into pushing. Doc is counting, because she can see his mouth moving, and the pain is white hot until it feels as if… yes, as if—

“I’ve got the head, keep going, one more push, easier this time--” he says, and he’s smiling, and Snow is smiling, so Regina pushes again even though she’s tired and breathless. She feels the movement as Doc turns the tiny body. “Shoulders, yes, okay, stop—you’ve done it.” There’s a long moment of silence, and Regina’s heart is racing so fast she feels sick. Then the baby makes a whimpering sound that turns into a tiny wail, and Regina relaxes as Emma cries out in happiness. “It’s a girl!” he declares cheerfully.

“Thank goodness,” Snow says, staring down lovingly as she helps Doc cleans her off.

Regina shivers as she waits to hold her daughter—a daughter! Her child with Emma, her beloved, whose body trembles behind hers.

“Have to cut the cord—anyone want to do the honors?” Doc asks.

Emma holds out a hand. “Can I do it from here?”

Doc nods and holds their child up for Regina to finally see her. She has a dusting of damp hair on her head, and she’s blotchy and wrinkled like all babies are when they’re born, but she’s as perfect as Henry was when she first held him. She squirms in Doc’s arms until he moves around the bed to place her high on Regina’s belly.

Doc hands Emma a small pair of scissors and indicates where she should cut. When she does it, the room’s energy seems to shift, but no one says a word. Snow stands nearby, tears streaming down her face.

“You’re not finished yet, Regina, you have to deliver the placenta,” Doc reminds her, but Regina barely notices. Instead she gazes in wonder at the baby, who is making noises that are close to cries, but not quite. She feels clumsy as she holds her daughter with both hands, while Emma hovers over them both.

“It’s a baby,” Emma says in amazement. “It’s a girl. It really is a girl.”

“I can’t believe it,” Regina says, and when she hears her own voice, it’s rough and scratchy and full of tears. She glances up at Emma, who weeps openly. “So the name—are you still all right with it? Do you think it fits?”

Emma’s mouth curls up, and she nods. “Yeah. I think so.”

Licking her lips, Regina turns back to her daughter. “Happy birthday, Juno. We’ve been waiting for you. Welcome to the world.”

Emma helps wrap the baby in the blanket she knitted all those months ago. After that they rest together, stroking her head sweetly, murmuring in soft voices despite the war exploding all around them.

“Nurse her,” Doc advises. “It will help later, assuming you don’t have a breast pump ferreted away in your closet.”

Emma laughs, so Regina brings the baby close and pulls her damp nightshirt down over her breast. “There’s no milk yet, though.”

“It will come. Be patient.”

It takes a couple of minutes for Juno to latch on. Even then, she barely sucks, but Regina can’t stop staring at her little rosebud mouth as it works. The baby’s skin is not as pale as Emma’s, and she suspects that once her hair is dry it will be blonde. Her ears are unbelievably small; Regina wants to cry just looking at them. Emma’s breath on Regina’s cheek is a caress as she holds them tightly.

It doesn’t take too long to deliver the afterbirth. Finally she moves back on the bed so Doc and Snow can clean up the mess. The towels she’d been lying on are disposed of promptly, and the three of them recline against the sturdy headboard.

“I should--” Emma begins, but her voice breaks almost instantly. “I need to--”

“No!” Regina begs, “Just another minute.”

“They need me,” Emma says, and Regina knows how much it tears her apart to say the words. “I have to go.”

Regina’s heartbeat is too fast; the baby turns her head and writhes, waving one arm. Regina shifts her slightly, pulling the shirt back into place. Exhausted and weak, it takes nearly all her energy to sit upright. “Please, at least wait until Henry sees her. Please? He must be just outside--” Regina says, holding out a hand.

The heavy wooden door flies open so hard against the wall that it cracks down the center, top to bottom.

Henry stands just beyond the doorway, dressed in only pajama bottoms. His mouth is agape.

“What the hell was that?” Snow demands.

A long moment passes as they all stare. “It’s got to be magic—someone else must be here!” Emma says. She maneuvers out from behind Regina, grabbing for the sword at the bedside. “I should--”

“Wait,” Regina says, looking at her fingers in wonder. She waves them one by one at herself, glancing down at the baby before returning her gaze to her free hand. Directing her thoughts again to the door, she flicks one finger, and the door’s splintering is completed, with half of it falling to the ground in a crash.

She flicks her palm in the air, and a fireball appears in it, just as it should. Just as if she’d never been without magic.

“Oh my god,” Emma breathes, staring. “What’s going on?”

Regina recognizes a familiar sensation. At first it’s just a tingle in her belly, then it turns to a warm fire, then a conflagration, then it’s the sun inside her, exploding with heat and power and healing. She shuts her eyes as it courses through her. It’s like returning to a home that’s safe and wonderful, filled with the greatest joy she has ever experienced.

“Mom!” Henry shouts, and Regina looks at him. “You’re glowing!”

“Are you okay?” Emma questions. “Is the baby okay?”

Regina looks down at Juno, who is also enveloped by a golden light that Regina knows is coming from her magic. All the torn parts of herself are mending, inside her belly and between her legs. Her exhaustion fades in increments until she is absolutely quaking with power. Only now does she recognize how long her pregnancy was, and how much energy it required of her body. “I’m fine,” Regina says, almost laughing at the understatement. “I’m perfect.”

In a minute the glow fades into nothing, and Regina looks down at her baby. “So. I imagine you had something to do with this,” she says wryly.

She feels eyes watching her until she motions for Henry to come close. He does, smiling his toothiest grin when he sees his new sister. “Hi Junie,” he says, already doing his best to get under Regina’s skin.

Sternly she reminds him, “It’s Juno, dear.” He’d liked the name when they suggested it to him.

“I’m her brother, I can call her anything I want.” He reaches out to touch her cheek, and Juno turns toward his fingers.

“Well,” she harrumphs, but finds Henry’s nickname rather cute. Not that she would admit it.

Emma approaches them all cautiously. “Are we not going to talk about the fact that you were just, you know, glowing?” she asks.

“My magic has returned, and I am going to find my mother and destroy her, in very short order,” Regina replies. “But Henry, I have an extremely important job for you in the meantime.”

“I’m ready,” he says, meeting her eyes in the morning light.

“I need you to stay here and watch over Juno. I hope Snow will stay with you—" she glances at Snow, standing just behind Emma’s shoulder, and she nods silently. “You must both protect her if anyone tries to come in. Keep her out of sight. Can you do that?”

He bobs his head furiously. “I don’t have a weapon, though.”

“You won’t need one. I’m going to protect the room so only those who share your bloodline will be able to pass through the boundary. That means you, Emma, Snow and James.”

“But what about you, Mom?” Henry asks. “You’re my blood too, even if you’re not really.”

His words seal a wound on her heart that has ached for years. She holds his cheek in her palm. “Don’t worry about me, dear. I’ll cast the spell, so I can break it just as easily. And it’s my bloodline in particular that needs to be kept out.” She kisses his cheek and realizes she needs to place her newborn child in someone else’s arms. Once more she is reminded of Snow and James, as they left a squalling Emma in a magical tree to save her life. If Regina’s magic wasn’t flowing through her veins, she has no doubt she would collapse in a heap. Instead, she takes a breath. “Come up here on the bed and you can hold her.”

He does as she asks, and carefully Regina places Juno into Henry’s arms. The baby’s colorless eyes are open, blinking curiously at them. “Can she see me?” he asks.

“Yes,” Regina assures him. “And she knows your voice, because she’s heard it for nine months. It’s okay if she cries. Just hold her and tell her everything will be all right. Because it will be, Henry. I promise.”

He smiles, his eyes never leaving Juno’s face. “I know, Mom. I told you it would be.”

Before she steps away, Regina kisses Juno’s soft head over and over, her hands shaking with longing. Abandoning her children is against every instinct she has, but she must do it. And the quicker she can, the quicker she will return to start her life anew. “I’ll be back soon,” she tells them both before kissing Henry’s cheek.

Emma is behind her when she stumbles, catching her and holding her up. “I’ll be with you,” Emma tells her, hand at her waist.

With a deep breath, Regina turns around and faces Snow. “Take care of them,” she says, trying to keep the plea from her voice. This is her former mortal enemy, so naturally it feels a bit odd to ask her to watch over her children during a battle. “I know you’d rather be out there, fighting--”

“I’ll let you do the fighting this time, Regina,” Snow says, nodding once. “And do me a favor, okay? _Win_.”

Calling on the most merciless part of her nature, Regina smiles. The expression feels foreign but still familiar. “Have no fear, my dear Snow. I will defeat my mother, if it is the last thing I do.”

She flicks a hand and adopts a wardrobe of black leather and royal purple bustier. Glancing down, her eyes grow wide when she notices just how much her body has changed since the last time she did this. “So, that’s not going to work, is it,” she says, making a minor adjustment to keep her breasts where they ought to be. Cleavage is not a practical option.

Emma snickers, holding her sword and donning the rest of her armor. She kisses Henry, Juno and Snow before rejoining Regina. “So what do we do?”

“First things first,” Regina says, going to the window. She closes her eyes and remembers the spell instantly—her memory is sharper than ever. A wave of both hands sends a pulse of fire downward, and the ice bridge turns to water instantaneously. Every enemy soldier still climbing into the castle falls into the lake without warning.

Emma claps. “Nice!” Then she frowns. “Are there any sharks in there? Or ah, man-eating things?”

“Now, that’s a fine idea,” Regina replies, holding up a hand until Emma can grab it.

“I don’t mean they should get eaten! I just meant I wanted to know!”

Regina cackles. “I’m only teasing, dear. No sharks, or alligators, or killer whales, unfortunately. If they can swim, they’ll survive.” With another flick she closes the portal where the soldiers have come through—none will escape, and no more will arrive. “Hold my hand. We’re going down there. Are you ready?”

Emma nods, and takes her hand. Without turning back to say goodbye, Regina dissipates into a swirl of purple smoke, bringing Emma with her.

\---

 


	8. Chapter 8

Title: The Sun Inside

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time. But I wish I could get my hands on Regina.

Summary: When someone gets fairydust in her hair at a party, that someone gets someone else pregnant. But a threat from another world looms large, distracting our fair couple from the impending birth. In other words, it’s yet another magic baby scenario.

Length: 41K words, give or take

Notes: I bow to the Mafia: damelola, shemadehimwaffles, the-charmings. They helped me tremendously with their advice and encouragement. Also, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d write a story that featured pregnancy, but eh, what can you do? This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated, so sorry for the delay, gentle readers!

  


\---

On the balconies the fighting is fierce—dozens of swords clash in a cacophony of sound and fury. Regina and Emma appear out of nowhere much to the surprise of their own people, one of whom calls out, “Duck!”

Emma does so, but Regina simply holds out one hand and catches the sword that swings toward her. “No, sir, I don’t think so.” She looks all around her, as soldiers on both sides notice her presence. Still holding the sword by the sharp end, she waits for all attention is on her before she transforms the sword into sand that falls at her feet. With another wave, every sword on the enemy’s side does the same, disappearing into nothingness. In an instant, they are defeated.

“Take prisoners,” Regina announces, amplifying her voice so everyone in the vast space can hear her. “Only kill to save yourself. These men and women had no choice in coming here. Fight or die for the Queen of Hearts, am I correct?” she asks the man in front of her, whose sword she had destroyed first.

“Yes,” he says, voice uneven. “Your Majesty.”

 _It shouldn’t be so easy_ , Regina thinks. Her mother won’t be, but these people will show no loyalty to Cora, she’s quite sure of that. “Kneel,” she says, to show her strength.

He does, head bowed. Others follow suit, their enemy in red and black falling to the ground like dominoes.

“Well done, sir,” she says, and strides away, glancing back toward Emma. “Coming?”

“Geez, way to make a girl feel unnecessary,” she quips with a sly grin. “That was fancy.”

“I’m not in the mood to draw out the fight,” Regina says. “We’ve got a baby to feed.”

“Can’t wait.”

With each room they enter, the course of events is the same—swords are turned to sand, and the enemy is made to kneel at Regina’s feet. There are many wounded, everywhere, and she hopes only that there will be time to help them all. For now she can’t spare it, until she recognizes one of the fallen.

It’s Merac. He has a terrible chest wound, and he gasps for air in the corner while one of his comrades holds in the blood. “Wait,” Regina tells Emma, dropping to her knees next to him. “Merac, you’re hurt.”

His smile is a grimace, but he is resigned to his fate. “I will not survive the wound, Your Majesty. There were too many--”

“Shh.” Regina lays one hand on his chest and closes her eyes. It takes but a moment to heal his injuries, and he manages a full breath. “It’s Regina, Captain. You’d do well to remember that.”

His mouth falls open, and as she stands to depart, he calls out, “The people were right to believe in you, Regina. I was right to believe in you.”

Emma just stares at her as Regina heads toward the next room. “Who was that?” Emma asks in wonder.

“He’s a--friend.” At Emma’s surprised expression, she says, “I’m not horrible to everyone, dear. I have made a friend or two in my time.”

They come upon Red, James and Jacob amidst the brawl in the enormous dining hall, and in seconds they gape at Regina once she puts an end to the fighting. They almost look disappointed to have lost their enemies—James in particular. Red races toward them both with open arms, and Regina enjoys the jovial hug she receives. “Damn, Regina, your timing is amazing. What the heck happened?”

Regina keeps it short. “James, you’re a grandfather again. It’s a girl. Have you seen my mother?”

James shakes his head. Granny, positioned on the balcony above and armed with her crossbow, shouts down, “Haven’t seen her. Only soldiers from what I can tell.”

“She’s got to be here,” Regina says, inspecting those kneeling around her. “You,” she calls, zeroing in on a young woman, her hair hidden by the black and red helmet. “The Queen. Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” the woman replies. “We haven’t seen her since the Knave of Hearts made the announcement that we were going to war. The Knave led us through the portal. I swear.”

Before Regina can cast a spell to _encourage_ honesty, Emma is at her shoulder. “She’s telling the truth, Regina. Don’t um, do anything rash.”

Regina puts on her best, “Who, me?” expression and continues on toward the front of the castle. Their group of five is made six by Granny who hurries down from the balcony after them.

Unsurprisingly they come upon another group of soldiers fighting in the main hall, not far from the steps that lead to the living quarters. Again the fighting is ended quickly as the enemy swords are made sand.

“You will all be taken prisoner and returned to your homeland soon enough,” Regina announces, her voice ringing out. “For now, your allegiance to the Queen of Hearts has ended. Kneel before me and you will be spared.”

Collectively, the soldiers kneel. It’s relatively simple to tell the enemy from their own people, but one soldier, dressed all in black, does not follow instructions. In fact, his posture is curiously defiant. Powerful. Unafraid. Regina’s heart begins to beat faster.

“I said kneel, soldier,” she demands. “Kneel before me or suffer the consequences.”

The laughter makes Regina’s hair stand on end. It fills the room and there is a gasp of terror from everyone, including the enemy fighters.

The man in black becomes a swirl of smoke before transforming into Cora, Queen of Hearts. Her mother.

“You know, dear, that I do not kneel before anyone.” Cora’s smile is devastating. “But especially not a nothing like you.”

Regina remembers the familiar weakness in the knees, the sweatiness of the palms that is an automatic reaction. But then she recalls Juno, and the strength churning within her, and she stands taller. Emma comes to her side, and the six of them are a wall of power, waiting for Cora to make the first strike.

It doesn’t take long. She tosses out a fireball that Regina blocks with ease. That relaxes her; she can do this. Her mother is powerful but she is not infallible and she never will be. Another fireball follows, then Cora shatters the beautiful stained glass behind her and sends it in their direction. Regina has no trouble casting a protective spell around their little team, but other soldiers are hurt in the hail of glass. Tired of waiting for something really challenging, Regina calls on the shattered glass and sends it in her mother’s direction in a whirlwind; Cora blocks it, but it seems to take more effort than Regina expects for her to parry.

Next Regina sends fire—not just a ball of it, but a stream flying straight from her hand. As it flows out of her, the intensity surprises even Regina. She has never held more power than she has today. Magic has been second nature to her for more years than she can count, but now it seems her birthright.

“You will kneel, Mother,” Regina declares. “Or you will die.”

Cora disappears, and as Regina whirls around, she is just able to block a razor sharp sheet of ice that Cora throws. “Nice try. Apparently not all power endures,” Regina quips, remembering the worst night of her life, the night that set her on the path to destruction. “Being queen has made you soft. All that sitting on a throne, no one to question you--”

“Enough!” Cora shouts, and she uses her power to commandeer every sword in the room (save Emma’s) and sends it in their direction. Once more, Regina waves a hand and disintegrates each one into sand. Regina stalks forward, and when she gets closer, Cora throws more fire, but not at Regina—she sends it toward Emma.

That enrages Regina, who blows the fire back in her mother’s face with every once of strength she has. It visibly stuns Cora, who stumbles before snarling with fury. “You ungrateful whelp,” she spits. “I raised you, fed you, clothed you, cared for you and look at the thanks I get. You will never defeat me, child. You will never understand my power. Look at you—clinging to your little friends and your pathetic lover. And where is your precious _child_ , hmm? Stillborn, perhaps? Or dead already? I could have murdered her and you wouldn’t even know it. My soldiers are searching the castle as we speak, and their orders are to kill the baby and anyone who tries to protect her.”

Just the thought of it makes Regina ill; she feels panic race through her. For a moment she actually believes Cora could have broken the protection spell, or found a way to send soldiers through it, until Emma shouts behind her, “She’s a lying sack of shit, Regina, don’t buy into it!”

“You will be silent before your Queen!” Cora shouts and waves a hand, and the wind she whips up is strong enough to knock Emma, James and Red down to the ground.

“Shut up, Mother,” Regina says, and stalks forward. “I’ve heard just about all I care to from you. Now it’s time to end this, once and for all.” She leaps toward Cora, who with a sneer attacks Regina in mid-air. They collide, and Regina shoves her mother across the room with all her strength. They throw fireball after fireball at one another, resulting in a massive blaze across the room that sends all the soldiers, both enemy and friend, scurrying. One fiery missile manages to break through her spells and scalds her arm, raising an angry red blister that stretches from shoulder to wrist. She spends a moment healing it before hurling more magic in Cora’s direction.

It’s only when she realizes that Cora is never even touched by a single flame that Regina understands. Cora has surrounded herself with an invisible armor. It’s barely larger than her own body, but Regina suspects that nothing she sends at her will break through it. She will have to do it by hand, with every bit of strength she has.

Strategically, she pauses her flame-throwing to put out the fire in the hall. After this, she takes on the appearance of fatigue. She breathes more heavily and sways just enough to catch her mother’s attention. She continues to block her spells but only rarely does she cast her own, as if to conserve her energy.

This, as she hoped for, draws Cora in. She steps closer and closer with every passing minute. The shouts of Emma, James and Red behind her do nothing to distract her. Every ounce of her being is focused on her mother. Her eyes, her smile, her empty soul.

This woman gave birth to her. It still hurts to be hated by her. Again, she thinks of Juno and Henry, whom she could not love more if she tried. She would die a thousand deaths for them, and for Emma too.

When Cora is close enough, Regina speaks quietly. “After all this time, I finally feel sorry for you, Mother. You never felt love. Even when you _were_ loved, you didn’t feel it. Isn’t that right?”

“Love is weakness,” Cora says, like a child’s toy that can repeat only a single phrase. “Love is nothing.”

“Love is the greatest power in the world. It creates happiness, a happiness I searched for my whole life. Finally I found it, and I intend to keep it. That’s why I will win, and you will lose.”

Cora frowns. “You will never defeat--”

Regina doesn’t let her finish the sentence, shooting forward faster than light, bursting through her mother’s spell. Cora gasps in fright, reeling back. Her mouth is open, and for the first time, Regina sees true fear on her face. Regina shoves out with her hand, uncertain of how to proceed when the memory finally explodes into her mind like a firework. Although Cora’s beating heart is preserved elsewhere, there is something even more valuable inside Cora. Regina begins her search for the thread of her dreams.

 _They were just girls, still in training and barely twenty-one. “It’s just a story”,_ _Regina_ _had said then, unnerved. “But I’ll let you try.” So Maleficent had reached inside her body with one hand, but wasn’t able to find anything out of the ordinary. “Now let me try,”_ _Regina_ _had said. She remembers reaching underneath her friend’s skin and easing her fingers through muscle and bone and sinew, until she felt something unusual. Yes, that must be it--a thread! She recalls tugging, and seeing Maleficent’s pretty face crumple in agony, and letting go right away. She’d torn her hand free instantly. She’d sworn she hadn’t meant to hurt her—it was just a legend, right? Isn’t that what Maleficent had said?_

She realizes only then that Maleficent had wiped her memory of that day, out of self-protection. Just as Regina would one day wipe the memories of hundreds, Maleficent had done the same to her.

They were friends, but there were limits.

So today, Regina slides her hand through her mother’s body, eyes closed in concentration, searching for that source. It takes only a few moments for Regina to discover it, because she knows just what to look for.

“What are you—oh!” Cora shouts, and the shout turns to a scream when Regina pulls.

She’s not quite sure what to do, but she tugs the thread and twists it around her hand until something rips loose. She uses her other hand to help herself along until whatever it is becomes more than just a thread. Cora begins to fall to her knees, but Regina does not give up until the thing breaks free, and when she removes her hands, she is holding a shadow, enormous and utterly terrifying. It’s far larger than Cora, and it shimmers like dark water in a shallow pool.

“My magic,” Cora croaks. “You would steal my magic for yourself?”

“No,” Regina replies, and drags the shadow higher into the air. It hovers above them both, and she blows on it gently, as she used to for Henry when he asked her to make dandelion seeds fly. In an instant the shadow dissipates into nothing, and is gone.

When Regina looks down, the person kneeling at her feet is an old woman, practically ancient. Her hair is gray, her skin wrinkled and spotted with age. The hands she holds up in supplication are gnarled, and her eyes seem pale, as if she is blind. The glamour she’d cast upon herself is gone, and with it the illusion of youth. Regina did not physically age during the nearly thirty years in Storybrooke, as a byproduct of the curse. But her mother had not had this luxury, so without magic her true age is apparent.

“I want you to go away from here forever, Mother,” Regina tells the old woman who looks nothing like the Cora of her memories. That woman is gone for good. “I never want to see you again.”

“Regina, daughter,” the woman cries. “Please!”

“We are finished,” Regina tells her. “As promised, I will spare your life because you have knelt before me. Understand?” The pale eyes are too much for Regina to bear—she waves a hand, and the milkiness vanishes, replaced by deep brown. “Go, now.” She takes a last look before adding, “Goodbye.”

When Regina turns away, she hears the old woman slump to the ground, but she takes no pity on her. That woman came here to kill her child and everyone she loves. Regina has no sympathy left.

Her eyes find Emma, who smiles at her so brightly it’s blinding. All of them are gazing at her with something like reverence, and only then does she realize that every single soldier around them is kneeling. Not just the Queen’s army, but James’ as well. They bow their heads in a silent demonstration of respect.

Regina swallows back the emotion that threatens to swell into tears, and focuses on the task at hand. That is—to heal the worst of the injured, and send the enemy back through the portal. With a sigh, she looks to Granny, who is always the best at organizing such affairs. “Granny, I need you.”

“At your service, Your Majesty.” She bows her head as well, and Regina can only smile.

\---

Hours later, she lies on the bed, nursing Juno. The baby is sleepy but she’s learned to suck since that morning, and Regina’s milk is beginning to come in. Emma reclines next to them, still fully clothed. She’s snoring, and Regina doesn’t have the heart to wake her.

Henry is at her other side, leaning against her shoulder. He’s fascinated by his baby sister and has already changed two diapers after Snow’s careful instruction. Regina refused to allow him to watch her heal dozens of mortally wounded soldiers, but he served as the perfect babysitter. What’s remarkable is that after giving so much of her power to so many others, she feels drained of the excess strength. The burst of energy has faded with the sunset, and now Regina is more like herself. She has magic, and plenty of it, but nothing like what she had after Juno’s birth.

The why remains a mystery, but she’s certain that Juno was involved in some fashion. Perhaps the pregnancy forced her to store up her magic for the most important day of both their lives, or perhaps another kind of magic was involved.

Regina doesn’t really care. She has her daughter, and her son, and her lover at her side. She needs nothing more.

“So the magic can just come out of someone, if you find the source?” Henry asks softly. He’s still disappointed that he missed all the best action.

“Yes. I’d heard the stories when I was young, but most practitioners don’t discuss it. It puts them at risk to lose their own magic.” She pauses, resting her head against his. “It’s supposed to be very difficult to do.”

“But it wasn’t. Not for you,” Henry says.

She bobs her head in assent. It’s odd to acknowledge this. Regina has always seen herself as a highly skilled witch, but never as powerful as Cora, and certainly not strong enough to dismantle anyone’s magic. However, there is no denying that having achieved this result once, she could do it again under the right circumstances. She wonders what this means for her future. With Cora gone, perhaps she can let go of the fear that lingers in her heart, and learn to embrace her own strength.

“What will we do now?” Henry asks.

Turning to her son, she replies, “Enjoy our lives. Be happy. What would you like to do?”

He grins. “I have some ideas.”

\---

EPILOGUE

Later.

HENRY 

Henry knew all along that his mom didn’t want a big wedding. She’s kind of unusual that way—she loves being the center of attention, but the getting married thing made her really uncomfortable. So when he told Grace he didn’t think his moms would get married, she had the best idea.

Grace knows lots of information about the EnchantedForest, and she told him about this natural bridge thing that people get married under. They don’t even have to have an official or anything to make it count—they just stand under it, say some stuff about love and all that, and they’re married. This seemed like something his mom could be into, so when Junie was a few months old, he asked her about it.

At first, she brushed it off. “I don’t want to get married again,” she’d said. “Ever.”

But a few days later, she’d asked, “Do you want me to be married, dear?” She’d looked concerned over his “emotional welfare,” like she used to be back in Storybrooke.

He’d shrugged. “Not if you don’t want to be.” And he’d meant it. But he wouldn’t mind either. He liked the idea of their family being permanent. It was pretty permanent already, since his mom was Junie’s biological mom, and Emma was his biological mom, but still. It would be cool.

They didn’t talk about it again for a while. Then after about a month, his mom brought it up. “So, if we were to… get married, you’d be all right if it were under the bridge you told me about? You wouldn’t be disappointed not having a big event?”

He knew then it was in the bag.

They decided not to tell Emma, because she really likes surprises. Most of the time. She always said that her two favorite surprises were Henry showing up at her door that one night, and of course, Junie being her kid too. He wanted to make sure that this surprise was at least as good as her other favorites, because getting married was supposed to be the best day of your life.

He let his mom plan the outfits, because she could just magic up whatever Emma wanted when they got there. He wondered if Emma would wear a dress or pants—his vote was pants, but she was unpredictable. His mom would definitely be wearing a dress, one she showed him in advance for his approval. He thought it was really nice, even though it wasn’t white. Purple was her favorite color, so that was okay.

His mom let him decide on the food. It was silly, but he wanted pizza and root beer, like they had the day he’d found out about Junie. She had rolled her eyes a little bit and said “Oh Henry” in a way that reminded him of her old self, but she said yes anyhow.

And his mom doesn’t know it, but there’s going to be something fun after the ceremony, back here at the castle. Nobody’s supposed to find out about the wedding, but after about two days of his mom running around being weird, Red had cornered him. He’d confessed, and she’d started planning a party. As of now the only person in the village who doesn’t know about any of it is Emma, and his mom still thinks the wedding is some big secret. He’s totally excited about that part. She doesn’t go for surprises as much as Emma does, but he’s sure she’ll like this one.

His big job for the day is to carry the rings, and to hold Junie once they get there. The horses are all saddled, and he’s so excited he can hardly stand it. He waits at the stables, checking his pocket for the rings over and over. When he sees his mom and Emma finally coming down the path, he tries not to seem too jumpy.

Junie’s already tucked in her carrying pack, facing out and kicking her legs. She’s making that “ba-ba-ba” noise as usual. Mom says she’s starting to learn to talk, so Henry hopes she learns a new word soon. He’s been trying to get her to say his name, but she just laughs and grabs his hair instead. Her hair is blonde like Emma’s, but her eyes have turned brown, although on a sunny day like today, they look gold. She squeals when they get close enough for her to recognize him, and instead of listening to Emma and his mom pick on each other, he makes funny faces at her.

“I don’t know why you’re rushing me, Regina, it’s not like we’re on a schedule,” Emma complains. “I was supposed to go to that knitting thing with Red and Granny today.”

“ _Knitting thing._ Gods, you’re turning into a housewife.”

“Me? I think you’re the housewife, lady. At least I do more than garden. Every freaking time I go looking for you somebody tells me you’re in the orchard. We need cellphones in this place. I can’t go running a mile just to have a conversation with you.”

“Well good luck making that happen considering we can’t even get--”

“Hey!” Henry shouts, and the two of them look at him, almost surprised he’s standing there. “We’re supposed to be having a nice picnic today. _Right, Mom_?”

She swallows nervously. “Of course, Henry dear, I’m sorry.” She pats his shoulder and Junie makes a grab for his head. Her giggle is evil and Henry ducks to avoid her fingers. Once her hands latch on to something, they don’t let go.

Emma ruffles his hair. “Sorry, kid. I know we’ll have fun. Where are we going anyway?”

“Oh, just someplace nice I heard about. You’ll like it. There might be a waterfall.”

They mount their horses and set off, and Henry tries not to look guilty. His mom is flustered, fidgeting in her seat as she casts the spell that will keep Junie stable when they gallop. Having her magic again has been a big help taking care of the baby, even though she and Emma still make him clean his room on his own.

His riding is way better than it’s ever been; Mom has taught him a lot since Junie was born. He can jump now, and it’s not as scary because he’s taller than he was when they got here over a year ago. His horse Angelica is smaller than Louis and Emma’s horse Dante, but she keeps up with them as they ride over the hills. The sky is dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the weather is cold but nice. A few birds fly overhead with them for a mile or two, and he waves goodbye when they break off and go their own way.

In the distance, he sees their destination. He glances over at his mom. She looks anxious, way more than she should be. Emma won’t say no—she totally wants to get married. She and his mom bicker often but he watches the way they look at each other, and the way they play with Junie. He thinks they love each other more all the time, even if they pretend it isn’t true. But he catches them kissing a lot more than other kids in his class catch their parents kissing, and he knows that for sure because he asked them about it. For at least two days during recess everyone told stories about their families, most specifically, parents. Henry made sure to keep his voice down when he shared the time he found them making out in the preserves closet in the kitchen (everyone squealed in disgust at that) and when he almost tripped over them in the stables, twice. His friend Toby had made a face and said “They were in the dirt? And hay?” to which Henry nodded solemnly. Everyone else just said, “Ugh.”

A week later, his mom dragged him by the ear to his room and told him if he told one more story about her to the kids in school she’d cast a spell on him that sewed his mouth shut whenever he tried to spread gossip.

“But it’s not gossip if it’s true!”

“Regardless. No more stories.”

Emma had just shaken her head behind Regina’s shoulder, as if to say, “Ignore her. She’s full of hot air.”

Later that day, Emma had told him in no uncertain terms that no matter how blustery she got, Regina would never do magic on him as a punishment. Cora had done that to her when she was a kid (Emma didn’t go into details), and Regina might pretend it was an option, but it wasn’t. Henry got it, and he felt sad for his mom. He’d known with a mom like Cora her childhood couldn’t have been very happy, but to know for sure made his stomach twist up.

“But listen kid, it would be better if you didn’t talk about us so much with your friends. I know that you’ll probably be talking more and more with them about things like, you know, affection between… consenting adults…“ She’d looked at the sky then and sighed. “Can’t believe I’m doing this,” she’d mumbled. “Anyway, if you talk about kissing and that kind of stuff with your friends, leave us out of it, okay? It’s private, between your mom and me.”

“Then why do I keep catching you in public places? It’s not my fault you were in the stables--”

“I know, Henry, and we’re working on that, okay?” She’d shut her eyes then. “And if you ever have questions about, um, private stuff, come to me. I’ll talk to you. Even if it’s weird. Because I want you to know the truth, and kids almost never know the truth. Believe me, I remember.” She’d punched him in the arm lightly and grinned. “Sorry you don’t have a dad to talk about this with. Maybe it would be easier.”

He’d smiled. “I don’t need a dad, Emma. I have you, and Mom, and James and Snow and Red and Jacob and Junie and all my friends. What do a need a dad for?”

Her eyes got all glassy then and she’d hugged him so tight he almost couldn’t breathe.

Emma had been right—his mom never cast spells on him unless he wanted her to. She made him fly once, on his birthday, and that was one of the best things ever. Once she’d done a little fireworks show outside his window, and sometimes he gets a frozen milkshake in his lunch bag at school. His friends get jealous, but he doesn’t care. No kid has ever been jealous of anything he’s ever had, because he didn’t have friends before now. They all want a mom who can do magic, but Henry feels glad that he gets her all to himself, aside from Junie. He never thought having the Evil Queen for a mom would be awesome, but it is. He’s a lot more grown up now than he was in Storybrooke, and like Emma tells him, people aren’t just “good” or “evil.” And sometimes people change, when they want to.

He helped his mom change; she told him so a long time ago. That makes him feel proud.

As they get close enough to the bridge to see it, Emma points to it. “Check it out! What do you think that is?”

Neither he nor his mom says anything, but their eyes meet.

“Let’s go see it,” Emma says, turning Dante in that direction.

They’re in a valley, with high hills on either side. It’s rocky, but really pretty. The gray stone bridge is smaller than he thought it would be, maybe only fifteen feet high, with grass and wildflowers growing out of it. Moss covers the top, and from here it looks like an entryway to another world, because the hill behind it splits into another valley. Where that leads, he isn’t sure. When he gets closer, he hears water running, and figures the waterfall Grace talked about must be close by.

“Wow,” Emma says, eyes fastened to the stone. She dismounts her horse and walks closer, with Dante dancing behind her. When she’s beneath the arch, she notices a plaque fastened to the stone. “It says ‘ _Bridge_ _of_ _Iseult_ _. Speak your love here and be united for eternity._ ’ What do you think that means?”

 _This is it_. Henry watches his mom, who looks like she might be sick. “Mom!” he whispers, nodding toward Emma. “Come on!” The two of them dismount and approach Emma, and Henry stays back a little ways, to give a little privacy.

“It’s a special place, where two people can be married, if they want,” his mom says.

“Well, people can get married anywhere,” Emma replies.

Regina picks Junie up out of her pack and hands her to Henry. Junie pulls her typical hair grab move, which Henry allows because he needs to pay close attention.

“That’s not exactly it. It’s a place where people marry without a priest or a judge. If you speak your vows under the bridge, it means you’re married. It’s as genuine as a wedding, only more private.”

“Oh,” Emma says, running her hand along the stone’s rough edges. “Oh!” She turns to his mom, and she gets it. Henry giggles to himself, which makes Junie giggle too. “Is this—what is this?”

“Would you like to—“ His mom clears her throat. “—Be married here? Today?”

“I thought you didn’t want to get married,” Emma replies, sounding dazed. “To anybody.”

“My thoughts on the subject have… changed somewhat. If you still want to get married. It’s all right if you don’t—“

“I do!” Emma interrupts, still confused. “But, is this a surprise? Like a surprise wedding? Was this your plan?” When his mom nods, Emma looks over at him. “And you were part of it?”

Henry nods, propping Junie a little higher on his hip. She waves at Emma, who waves back absently.

“So, this is…” She puts a hand to her forehead and looks at his mom. “You sure you really want to do this?”

His mom nods, and takes a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”

Emma smiles, and Henry claps, because she says, “Yes,” and falls into his mom’s arms. They hug for a long time while Junie pulls his hair and tries to get it into her mouth, but Henry manages to keep her from doing that. He goes over to his horse and pulls the silver rattle from the saddlebag. He shakes it once before handing it to her, which keeps her occupied as his mom and Emma talk about outfits. After doing a little magic, his mom dresses in her purple gown, and it looks much nicer in the sun—it’s not as dark and gloomy as he’d thought. After they negotiate for a couple of minutes, Mom magics up something similar for Emma in cream, a color that looks nice with her hair. Henry nods when he notices the lower half of the dress is split to reveal jodhpurs and her old lace-up boots. At least he was right about half her outfit.

They both hug him tightly when they’re ready to start, and his mom asks if he has the rings ready. He does, double checking his inside pocket for them just in case. When Emma pulls him and Junie into her arms, she murmurs, “This was a good one, kid. I owe you.”

“No problem,” he whispers back.

Mom and Emma hold hands as they walk to stand under the bridge, and Henry’s heart stops for a second. It makes him so glad to see them together; he doesn’t like mushy stuff very much, but they have never looked prettier or happier. And they look like they might cry too, so he pretends not to care even though his chin wobbles a little.

“Ba-ba-ba-ba,” Junie says, wriggling around in his arms and shaking her rattle. Henry holds the rattle quiet. Even Junie stops moving to watch his moms look at each other.

“I wrote some vows to say,” his mom says, “but I can’t remember any of them. All I know is that you saved me from a sad, lonely life, and I never want us to be apart. I love you, Emma. I will till I die, and after.”

Emma’s mouth opens at that, and she takes a big gulping breath. No one says anything, and Emma spends about a minute thinking of what to say. “I had nothing and no one before you and Henry. My life was lonely too, and I think I was meant to find you. We were meant to save each other.” Tears spill out of her eyes, but she keeps on going. “I love you, Regina. I will till I die, and after.”

After that, Henry thinks he should give them the rings. He walks forward and holds them up with his free hand: two thin gold bands, each made of two rings entwined. They each take one and slide them on their left hand ring fingers, and he can tell they’re both shaking.

When they’re done, Henry looks up, and Junie does too. “So that means you’re married!” Henry announces, and they smile bigger.

“I guess it does,” his mom says, and her face is wet with tears.

“Now I get to kiss you,” Emma tells her, and Henry suppresses his groan. He knew this part was coming, so he steps back.

They lean forward and kiss, and Emma touches his mom’s cheek. It doesn’t go on for very long, but his mom’s eyes stay closed even when it’s over.

“We’re married,” Emma says, and she looks surprised.

“Yes,” his mom answers. “We’re married.”

“Congratulations!” Henry crows, and Junie babbles in his ear, grabbing his collar and yanking hard. Emma rescues him by swooping down, picking the baby up and lifting her high over her own head.

“Hello, my little Junebug. Your moms just got married!” Emma tells her.

“Why no one in this family can call my daughter by her given name is beyond me,” his mom says, but there’s no bite to it because she’s wiping her eyes. “Her name is Juno. Juno, Juno, Juno.”

“Jah-jah-jah,” Junie repeats, arms held out as Emma swings her around.

“Yeah, I got it,” Emma says, blowing a raspberry on Junie’s stomach. “Junebug, are you happy?”

His sister giggles, because that seems to be Junie’s response to everything. She’s a very giggly baby. She cries if she’s hungry or tired or needs her diaper changed, but that’s about it. For the first few months Henry thought for sure she was going to look more like Emma, but now her face seems to be changing, and she looks like his mom. Just with blonde wavy hair.

“When can we eat?” Henry asks, ready for their celebratory lunch.

“Of course you’re hungry,” Regina says, but she hugs him, kissing the top of his head. “We can eat right now.”

The set up their picnic beyond the bridge, and he was right about the waterfall being nearby. Since they don’t have the brick oven, his mom makes the pizza with magic, throwing the ingredients together and then setting them all on fire. When she blows out the flame, the pizza is dripping with lightly browned cheese and vegetables and pepperoni on his part. And just like he remembers, the root beer is icy cold in the glasses she produces out of nowhere. As they eat, Mom feeds Junie too; she’s a master at managing everything with one arm these days. When they’re done, Junie falls asleep, since it’s her usual naptime, and they lounge in the sun until the weather starts to get colder. Henry wishes the day could last forever, but he helps them pack their things when his mom asks.

They walk back under the bridge to find the horses grazing, and Emma smiles as she touches the plaque on her way out. She pulls him under her arm for a hug. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, Emma.” He’s thinking about calling her something else now, but he’s not sure what. Maybe he’ll talk to his mom first, since she knows Emma better than anyone. She’ll know if Emma will want that.

“So what do we tell everybody when we get back?” Emma asks as she helps Henry up onto Angelica.

“Maybe we shouldn’t say anything at first,” Regina replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Just keep it between us.”

“That sounds good,” Emma agrees. “They’ll want to throw a big party when they find out.”

“I suppose we’ll have to let them,” Regina says, sounding resigned to the idea. “Hopefully it won’t be too much. I hate it when they go overboard.”

“Me too,” Emma says, tucking Henry’s boot in the stirrup. “There you go. All set.” Henry’s eyes are wide when she looks up at him. “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing,” he says. Maybe he should warn them about the surprise party now. He considers it briefly, and dismisses the idea.

He watches Emma as she goes to help his mom with Junie’s pack, careful not to wake her from her nap. Emma says something too low for him to hear, and his mom gets that lovey-dovey look on her face. He never once saw that look before Emma came around. He turns away, because some things are just too private, even more private than kissing and all that stuff.

The ride home is faster, because clouds have rolled in and the air has turned really cold and crisp. They can see the castle when a gentle snow starts to fall, and he hangs back a little bit to catch some flakes on his tongue. When he rides on, he sees his mom reach out for Emma’s hand as they slow their horses to a walk, letting him catch up.

They hold hands all the way home.

the end.

  



End file.
